Do You Want To Know A Secret
by shelpel98
Summary: George's cousin is in town, and she has a secret she doesn't want anybody to know. Will the rest of the Beatles find out, or will she be able to keep the secret a secret?
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Hey there again! Here's a new story I've been working on. Not sure how often I will update, but once I get this posted I'm sure I'll be motivated to write the next few chapters. Hope you enjoy! Please review! It'll help out a lot! Well,enjoy!_**

We walked into George's house like we would any day. He said he'd forgotten something, so we all got into his car and drove to his house with him from the studio before heading out to do something-we hadn't decided what yet, so it was a perfect time for George to go pick something up.

Like I said, we all go in like normal, but this time I stop short. There was a girl sitting on the sofa. From where I stood I saw she had long auburn coloured hair, not quite as bright as John's, and she had bright blue eyes that stood out brightly against the hair colour.

"Who is she?" I whispered to George in confusion.

"That's me cousin," he replied.

"You have a cousin?" I asked. He'd never mentioned a cousin before, but, of course, he never really said much anyway.

"Doesn't everybody?" George replied. I nodded. But I was still confused.

"If ye don't have an aunt or uncle ye don't." Ringo said. George's cousin sat on the sofa, frowning at the conversation.

"Why is she here?" John asked as if she wasn't sitting ten feet away.

"Why is she being talked about like she isn't here?" she asked in an extremely irritated voice. "I can hear ya know."

"Why does she sound American?" John asked, looking over at her and giving her a flirtatious wave. She rolled her eyes and laid her head back on the couch.

"It doesn't matter why she's here. She just is. And she's been living in America for about five years now. I guess she picked up a bit of an accent," George shrugged. "But she's rather irritable." George whispered the last sentence loudly enough for the girl on the couch to hear him.

"And she can still hear you!" She said, eyes still closed and head still tilted back.

"Well get up and be friendly!" George demanded. "You've been sitting on that couch all day!"

"And I've been tired all day," she said, looking over at him. "I need rest."

"Well Aunt Meredith wouldn't want you sitting around all day," he looked at her sternly.

"Fine," she grumbled, lifting herself off the couch.

When she stood up I saw that she was just about as tall as Ringo. She was wearing what appeared to be some of George's clothes- they were too big for her- a pair of jeans that she held up with a belt and an old T-shirt that made her look a lot smaller than she was.

"Hi there, I'm Laynee Harrison," She said, smiling and waving in a false-cheerful kind of way. "You must be the Beatles. I've always wanted to meet you!" she said in the same cheery tone. She then pointed out and named each of us.

"Can I go sit back down now?" She asked George when she finished her little act.

"No, you're going out with us. I came all this way to get you." he told her. A smile spread across John's face. "You need to actually make an effort in making friends."

"yeah, because 'friends' are how I ended up here," she muttered.

"It'll just be the boys and us," he told her. They both seemed to have forgotten that we were standing there too.

"Another reason I'm here," she half laughed in a sad kind of way.

"Look, it won't kill you to get to know these three people. Just three. After that you won't have to talk to anybody else, ok? Now go get in the car." George commanded her and she listened.

"Yes father," she said sarcastically as she walked out.

"I wouldn't mind getting to know her," John whispered in my ear. I rolled my eyes and pushed him away.

"How old is she?" John asked George as he watched Laynee climb into the car.

"Too young for you." George glared at John. "She's only 18."

"Mhmm," John said, as if he were thinking about God-knows-what.

"And she's here because..." Ringo trailed off, expecting George to finish off, and he did.

"Because her mum sent her here, that's why." He snapped.

As Ringo was apologizing the car horn began to honk impatiently.

"That'll be Laynee." George said, heading out the door himself.

"I'll drive!" John offered jokingly.

"The hell you won't!" George exclaimed. "I won't have you killing Laynee... Or messing up me car."


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Here's chapter two! Enjoy! I know it's going kind of slow, but the story is just starting, so bear with me. I'm just getting started. Oh, and I think I forgot to put "Paul's P.O.V" on th first chapter, but oh well. Well then, get to reading!_**

(Laynee's P.O.V)

"You boys talk more than girls do." I said, propping my feet up on the dashboard of the car to get more comfortable as George and the others got into the car.. I silently made a note to thank George for the use of his clothes. I didn't have a pair of pants to save my life. I'd always worn skirts and dresses because my mom always made me and that's what I'm used to, but I didn't feel right wearing a dress at the moment. Being about my size but just a bit taller, George offered me some of his clothes. They were a bit too big, but I was more than thankful for them.

"I thought you didn't want to go." George laughed at me.

"I don't, but you made me get in the car and you're making me go, so I'm gonna go, but I don't want to sit in the car all day." I told him. I was tired. I'd been on a plane most of the morning to get to George's house. And I'd been sick all that morning. I knew why, but I didn't want to believe it.

"You won't be sitting in the car all day," George said as we pulled into the parking lot of a fish and chips shop that wasn't five minutes from George's house.

"We could have just walked here," Paul said as he climbed out of the car, followed by John and Ringo. I didn't realize how cramped the back seat of the car must have been for all three of them.

"No, we couldn't have. I'm not going to make Laynee walk that far," George told him. I rolled my eyes. He was way too protective over me, especially now.

"She's got two legs, let her walk." John said.

George was about to say something but I stopped him before he could. "I could have walked, but I'm tired. George is just being an older brother and taking care of me." I climbed out of the car myself.

"I thought he was yer cousin," Ringo said as we walked into the shop. Everybody got a laugh from that.

We sat down at a table and the waitress came up to take our order. I rested my head against the wall and listened to them order- George ordering for me- but I didn't hear half of what they said.

"Laynee... Laynee!" George said, shaking my shoulder. I'd dozed off, I guess.

"The food's here. You need to eat," he told me. "Now I'm gonna go outside for a minute to take a smoke."

"I'll come with you," Paul said.

"Me too," Ringo added. All three of them looked at John.

"Nah, I'll stay here." John said. George glared at him. I didn't need to know John Lennon personally to know how he was- or how George saw him. George gave me a run down of the Beatles on the phone before I came, so I knew that he and John didn't always see eye to eye.

"I'm not going to do anything, George. Don't give yerself a heart attack." John muttered.

George Paul and Ringo all walked out of the building, leaving me sitting at a table with John. I stared at the plate of food in front of me.

"French fries," I said to myself. I couldn't stand them. They just never appealed to me.

"What?" John asked looking at me.

"Hmm? Oh, fries? I mean chips," I told him. "We call them French fries in America."

"Why? They aren't French."

"I know, but... I don't know. They just are. It's an American thing. Don't ask me." I began to eat my fish, avoiding the fries.

"Do you not like chips?" he asked, laughing at me.

"Nope." I replied.

"Why not?"

"Dunno."

"Where were you from before you moved to America?" he asked.

"Liverpool."

"Why'd you leave?"

"Parents."

We both sat there silently for a minute.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

I thought for a minute.

"Reasons," I finally replied.

"Why are you only responding with single-word answers?" He stared at me from across the table. It was a look that would make any normal girl nearly melt. I just stared back at him.

"Dunno." I smirked at him.

"You are impossible," he laughed at me.

"Well thank you," I smiled.

"Three! Three words!" He exclaimed.

I laughed at him and didn't even notice Paul Ringo and George come back.

"Well it's good to see you're in a good mood," George said, sliding into the booth next to me. Paul sat beside John and Ringo sat in a chair at the end of the table.

"Mhmm. And I'm done eating. You were probably out there talking like girls again," I told him.

"Fourteen," John said. I kicked him under the table.

"You just ate the fish!" George said.

"All of my fish, and half of yours. You can have my 'chips'." I pushed the plate towards George.

"Thirteen."

"You should be eating more than that," George said in a fatherly way.

"Not hungry," I replied.

"Two."

"Shut up John!" I exclaimed.

George looked at me.

"I'll eat later. I promise. I'll eat enough for two when I do."

"Thirteen!" John laughed.

George nodded at me and everyone began to eat their lunch.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Here is yet another chapter. This whole "chapter-a-day" thing isn't going to last long. It's just the weeken and I've been puntying off everything else because this story is a lot more fun than homework... Well, here is chapter 3. I'll be getting into the 'good part' soon since I can't think of any way to put it off any longer. Feel free to review or PM me. I'd love it. Really. I would... Enjoy!**_

(Paul's P.O.V)

We drove back to George's house so that he could drop Laynee off to go back to the studio.

"We'll only be there for a few more hours. I'll be home soon," George told her when she got out of the car.

"I can take care of myself. No worries. I'm a big girl," Laynee smiled at him like a little school girl.

"That's what I'm afraid of," George said. "Now eat something, please."

"Yes sir." Laynee saluted him and walked to the door, tried to open the door, then turned to George. He was laughing as he threw her the key.

"I was wondering if you'd notice you didn't have a key!" He called out to her from the window. Laynee stuck her tongue out at him them walked into the house.

John moved to the front seat and George backed out of the driveway.

"If she's eighteen why do you treat her like a child?" I asked George.

"She is a child- She's only 18," George replied.

John snorted. "And you're twenty- Ohhh big difference... Of two years."

"I don't care if she was older than me- I'm supposed to take care of her and I'm going to." George said.

"You're like an overprotective father- give her some slack. She's old enough to take care of herself," I told him.

I sighed and said in an almost inaudible voice: "If ye only knew."

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)

I walked into George's house and kicked my shoes off. I thought about plopping down on the sofa, but George said

to eat, and if he had anything worth eating I would eat it. I walked into the kitchen and first looked in the cabinet. I grabbed the box of corn flakes and a bag of potato chip (or 'crisps' as I would be corrected if I hadn't been alone.) I then moved to the fridge where I grabbed the milk and a half of a cake that had been left over from who-knows-what. I grabbed a bowl and a spoon and made the best attempt I could to carry it all to the sofa at once- which I accomplished with much difficulty.

I sat down and began to eat. I'd actually been hungry, but I didn't realize it until I actually started eating again. Before I knew it I'd eaten the entire box of cereal, the chips, and half of the half of cake, and I guess I ended up falling asleep.

I was awakened by a slamming door and an "Im HO-OME!" From who I thought was George, but I was wrong.

"You don't live here!" It sounded like Paul, said.

"YOU don't want to wake Laynee." This time it was George.

"You are a little too late for that," I told him as I walked into the kitchen where they all had gathered. I carried all of my junk back into the kitchen.

"That's where the cake went!" Ringo exclaimed.

"Yes. It was delicious," I responded handing him the leftovers to him.

"Thanks," he said, taking the plate from my hands.

"YOU woke me up," I said pointing a finger into John's chest.

"And you've said about thirty words since you've been home," he smiled at me.

"Why are you still counting?" I asked him, sitting down on the counter.

"What is he counting?" George asked, taking a bite of the little bit of cake left.

"I'm counting the words she says," John said in a matter-of-fact way.

"Why?" He asked.

"It's fun," John laughed.

"Lovely," George said. "Can I talk to you for a minute John?"

"Sure," John said, following George out of the room.

"George is going to end up killing John pretty soon," Paul commented, eating the last bite of cake.

"Hey that was mine!" Ringo complained.

"Why?" I asked, picking up an apple and biting into it.

"Just shush and listen," Paul said. I got up and walked closer to the doorway.

"She is six years younger than you!" George exclaimed.

"And you're three years younger, and Paul is two years, and Ringo is just a little older, so?" John said.

"That's me cousin!" George said in an even more irritated voice.

"And?"

"Look, just leave her alone! I don't need you messing with her, alright? She has enough to deal with."

"Like what?" John asked.

"Like none of your business."

I shook my head. George was doing what he was asked to do- take care of me, but he was making to much of a big deal about it.

George and John walked back into the kitchen.

"Laynee, can you come with me for a minute?" George asked.

I followed him.

"Let's maybe go somewhere farther away from the kitchen. I'd don't want anyone to overhear us," I told him. He agreed.

"Laynee," George looked at me seriously. "I need you to just listen to me for a minute."

"Alright," I said.

"You are eighteen."

"I know."

"You're going to be around a bunch of boys the entire time you are here."

"Ok."

"Just wanted to make sure you realised that," George said. "And there will be a lot of... Attention from some of them."

He didn't specify what he meant, but I knew.

"I've noticed," I replied.

"Just... Remember."

"I know," I moaned.

"Keep that in mind."

"How could I forget?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Here is the fourth chapter! (I know I said I wouldn't post once a day anymore, but I can't help myself. I wrote this chapter last night and I want to get it out there.) It starts to get interesting here so I hope you enjoy! Also, please review. I want to know what you think about it. It can be frustrating sometimes see you have 100 views but only 4 reviews (and half from the same person, and I thank you The Starkiller!) Anywho- without further ado, I give you, chapter 4!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

George and I walked back into the kitchen as if nothing happened. John Paul and Ringo were laughing about something.

"You hungry Laynee?" George asked.

"Nope," I replied.

"How could she be?" Paul laughed. "She's eaten all the crisps and the cornflakes, and most the cake we'd saved."

"She's eaten your cupboards bare," Ringo added.

"Aw shut your trap. They were already bare when I got here!" I snapped.

"So suddenly moody," George whispered to me. "Try and stay calm."

I nodded.

"You need a pet," John suddenly proclaimed.

"What? Why?" I asked, confused.

"Well, you see, Paul Ringo and I were talking and decided since George couldn't be here all the time to watch you and keep you company, you need an animal here." John explained.

"What? No!" George said. "she doesn't need a pet! She's got the telly and some records to keep her company."

"What kind of animal?" I asked, ignoring George's comment.

"Dog," Paul suggested.

"No. I'm allergic." I said.

"Cat?" Ringo said.

"Too much trouble."

"Bird." it was John's turn to suggest something.

I thought about it for a minute.

"What kind?" I asked.

"Parrot."

"Yes!"

"No!" George exclaimed.

"Why not?" I whined.

"I don't want some bird flying around me house!"

"It won't be flying around. It'll be in a cage silly," Ringo said.

"Please," I begged him.

"No," George said sternly.

"Oh please Georgie!" John said getting on his hands and knees on the kitchen floor, jokingly begging George. "Give the girl a bird. All she wants is a bird!"

"Get off the floor," George said, pulling John up by his elbow.

"Do you really want a parrot?" George asked me.

"Yes! I could teach it to talk!"

"And sing!" Ringo exclaimed.

"Fine. We'll get you one."

"Yay! Thank you!" I hugged him.

"Where do you get a parrot?" Paul asked.

"I don't know. You're the Beatles. Get your manager to find one." I told him.

"I don't think Brian would waste his time with that," George said.

"Then you do it," I told him.

"What?"

"You go get it."

"I can't-"

"I'll do it," John offered.

"Now there's a good man. You go get me that bird," I said.

* * *

I did get the bird. I named it Presley. Why? Because I was told I couldn't name it Elvis. It could talk- and sing. It was able to sing the chorus of three different Beatles songs- mainly because the boys had rehearsal at George's house a lot to help keep me company- and almost all of Love Me Tender.

"Will you get that bird to shut up?" George asked.

"Sorry. If you'd be quiet it would," I said, poking food through the cage.

"Well we're rehearsing," he told me.

"Well I'll take it to my room," I told him.

"You do that!" John called.

"Shut up!" I called back.

It'd been a little over two months since I'd moved in with George, and I'd grown to know each of the Beatles personally. Ringo was someone who I could talk to just talk to. He was goofy, but he was great. He had to be the nicest of them all. Paul was fun to be around. He'd joke around, but he knew how to be serious we he needed to be. And he'd always come and play the new song they were working on for me.

John was different. George made sure contact between us was extremely limited. George really didn't like John all that much, and he didn't want me to be anywhere near him. Any time I spoke to John it was mostly in a sarcastic joking kind of way, but that was fine with both of us.

I sat Presley's cage down then went into the bathroom. I walked over to the full body mirror that was hanging on the wall then lifted my shirt to look at belly. Like I said, it'd been a little over two months since I'd moved in with George, and I knew George's clothes wouldn't be able to fit for much longer.

I rubbed my belly and sighed. I was beginning to show now.

Without warning the door swung open.

"Hey!" I said. It was John. I tried to cover my stomach quickly, but not quick enough.

"Sorry I thought you were in your ro- Oh my God!" He exclaimed.

"Shhh," I put my finger to my lips trying to keep him quiet. "Shut the door!"

"Oh my God!" he whispered loudly this time. "You're pregnant!"

"I know," I said, biting my thumbnail. "That's why I'm here."

"To get pregnant?" he asked, confused.

"No, I'm here because I got pregnant." I told him. No one was supposed to know until later.

"Wha- bu- how long?" he asked. The look on his face was a mix of shock and concern.

"Three months," I said quietly. "Please don't say anything!" I begged him.

"You're not going to be able to hide that for long," he pointed out.

"I know, but I'm going to have to try," I told him, my eyes began to water.

"Try all you want, your stomach is going to be a balloon pretty soon."

"Thanks," I replied sarcastically.

We stood in silence for a while I didn't know what he was thinking about, but I can't read minds, so I'd never know.

"What did you mean by you came here because you got pregnant?" he asked.

"It was either get married or move out." I told him. "I had no intentions on marrying the creep who did this to me-" The tears began to flow. "I don't even know who he was- and my parents refused to be disgraced by an unwed daughter living in their house that was pregnant.

"I was going to move in with George's parents, but George offered to let me stay here since he knew I would be reprimanded for my actions at his mum's house- actions I couldn't control." I began to cry harder. I didn't want to have to talk about this, but I really screwed up this time. It wasn't all my fault John walked in- the lock on the bathroom was broken.

"Calm down," he told me, pulling me into a hug. "Now, how did it happen, since you said you couldn't control it?"

I subconsciously rubbed my neck where there were still bruises and it was still painful. My mind flashed back to the night- the punches, the fingers around my neck and fist down my throat.

I began to cry even harder.

"I don't want to talk about it," I sobbed.

"That's alright. Shh, calm down. You'll be alright," he told me as he kissed the top of my head.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Let me know if youlike it. It may be a whilebefore I post the next ones. I've hit a sort of creative road block, but let me know if you like it. Review, please, and enjoy!**_

(John's P.O.V)

Laynee- pregnant? That seemed nearly impossible. She seemed so innocent- so sweet.

"Now, how did it happen, since you said you couldn't control it?" I asked her.

She didn't say anything at first. Instead she reached for her neck- there were bruises there. Then it suddenly hit me, and the thought disgusted me.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, sobbing.

"That's alright. Shh, calm down. You'll be alright." I told her, kissing the top of her head.

She didn't calm down. She continued to cry into my shirt, and it sorta freaked me out- not that she was crying but because someone was bound to come check on her being gone so long, and that would result in George murdering me. I wasn't afraid of George until it came to Laynee. He was like an angry lion protecting his cub or something.

"Calm down!" I told her again.

"I-I'm sorry," she cried.

"It's not your fault..." I said. I looked around, trying to think of something to say or do as she continued to cry.

"Have you ever been kissed?" I finally asked.

"What?"

"Have you ever been kissed?" I asked again.

"N-no. Not really," she replied, looking up at me in a sort of confused way.

"Well you will be," I told her, lifting her head up and leaning my head down, kissing her. That shut her up, for sure.

She stood up on her tip toes to deepen the kiss- she was obviously enjoying it as much as I was. To be honest, I'd been wanting to kiss her since I first saw her.

She stepped back and looked up at me.

"I'm sorry," she said. I laughed.

"'S not your fault," I told her.

"We, uh, need to be going back," she said, opening the bathroom door. I stood back for a minute, watching her walk away.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)

I walked away from the bathroom a little confused. Did I really just... Yes. Yes I did, and I might have actually enjoyed it. No- I did like it. John Lennon kissed me and I liked it. I actually kissed him back.

I walked back into the living room praying that John was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Baby or not George would probably kill me if he found out.

I wiped the tears still in my eyes and on my face as I sat back down on the sofa.

"Where's John?" George asked, looking at me.

"Am I supposed to know?" I asked. "I think he's in the bathroom or something."

"I was," John said, walking into the room and sitting down on the opposite side of the sofa.

"What took you do long? Does it really take fifteen minutes to put a bird's cage down?" Paul asked.

I could feel John's stare, but I didn't look towards him. "I was straightening up my room. It suddenly bothered me," I replied.

"Oh. Ok," George said, putting down his guitar. "Hey, do you mind if Pattie comes over?" he asked me.

Pattie was his girlfriend. He met her while filming their movie A Hard Day's Night, which would be coming out sometime, I hadn't a clue when.

"Sure, I guess. When?"

"In a couple of hours," he replied.

It's not that I didn't like Pattie, she was such a sweet girl, but with girls there could be too much drama, and she would defiantly be one to tell certain secrets I wanted kept secret.

"We could take Laynee out," Ringo suggested.

"I don't know," he said, looking from Ringo to Paul to John.

"C'mon George. I don't get to go out much anymore!" I begged him.

He thought for a moment. "I guess so. Just don't get hurt."

"I'm not that prone to accidents," I laughed.

"Yeah, but one of these goofs might try to push ye out in front of car." George said.

"I'm hurt, George, that you'd think we'd do something like that," Paul said with mock hurt in his voice.

"I wouldn't doubt it," George said, rolling his eyes.

"Well I'm going to go get ready if these three fine lads are taking me out tonight," I said standing up and heading out of the room again.

Before I made it out of the room I heard John's voice: "Hey George, can I talk to ye for a minute.?"


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Well here's another chapter. I didn't realise last chapter was so short, but this one is a bit longer. I'm gonna be a while with the next few chapter (I haven't written them yet!) But hope you enjoy this chapter. **_

(George's P.O.V)

"Hey George, can I talk to ye for a minute?" John asked me.

"Uh, sure," I said, following him out of the room and into the kitchen. I couldn't imagine what John Lennon would be wanting to talk to me about.

"I know," he said, turning to me.

"Know? Know what?" I asked, confused. There wasn't much that He Paul or Ringo didn't know.

"About Laynee- I know about Laynee," he told me.

"What? How?" I demanded. Nobody was supposed to know, and I'm positive Laynee wouldn't say anything to anyone.

"I- uh- just happened to notice," he said, picking an apple up off the counter and biting in to it.

"How?" I demanded again. 'just happened to notice' was not hardly an answer.

"I walked in on her when she was looking at her stomach. That's all- don't worry, she had her clothes on," he reassured me, laughing, but that wasn't very reassuring.

"So that's what took you so long? " I asked. He nodded.

"Just leave her be, please, she has too much to worry about now," I told him.

"I'd imagine so," he said.

"George!" Laynee called from the living room. "Pattie's here!"

"Give me just a second!" I called back. Then I turned to John, "that all?"

"Yeah," he said as he exited the kitchen, then he stopped, a grin plastered on his face. "Oh, by the way, I kissed her."

He said, tossing the half eaten apple at me then ducking out of the kitchen and into the safety of company before I could do anything. I threw away the apple and stood there for a minute. He was going to get it. It might not be soon, but he'll get it!

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)

"Let's go," John said, walking quickly out of the kitchen.

"What? Why?" I asked.

"Let's just go, now." He hardly stopped as he grabbed my hand and headed out the door.

"Nice to see you again, Pattie," I told her as John dragged me along, Paul and Ringo followed slowly behind, talking amongst themselves.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked when we were outside.

"He knows." was all he said.

"Knows what?" I demanded, stopping to look at him.

"What happened. Earlier. Y'know."

What happened earlier? Oh when he...

"Why in the world would you tell him that? He's going to kill me!" I exclaimed.

"And me," he laughed. "I couldn't help it. I just had to tell him. The look on his face was priceless."

"I hate you," I said, turning from him and walking away.

"What happened?" Paul asked as he and Ringo caught up with us.

"She hates me," John laughed.

"What for?"

"He's a bastard," I told Paul, slowing down enough to walk near them.

"It took you this long to realise that?" Paul laughed.

"What're we gonna do?" I asked, talking mostly to Paul and Ringo.

"We could-"

"No," I stopped John before he could finish his sentence.

"You don't even know-"

"No," I said again. "Just no." I then turned to Paul and Ringo.

"What do you two want to do?"

"I don't know," Ringo said, looking around.

"There's not much we can do- we're the Beatles. Everybody knows us," Paul said.

"Let's go walking somewhere. I never get to walk anywhere!" I said.

"Just walking?" John whined.

"No one cares what you want to do," I snapped at him. He laughed.

"We have to stay away from busy roads, though," Ringo sighed.

"Yeah, one of us might be tempted to push ye out in front of a car," Paul said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Ah, of course... Then let's walk to your house," I suggested.

"What?" John exclaimed.

"Why would you want to go there?" Paul asked.

"I don't know, I'm tired of George's house," I told him. "Do you have food?"

He laughed. "Yes."

"Then let's go!" I exclaimed.

"You are George's cousin," Ringo laughed.

We walked all the way to Paul's house, and luckily we made it there before it got too dark.

"Can I borrow your phone?" I asked him.

"Why?" he asked me, confused.

"To mess with George," I smiled.

"Sure," he laughed. I walked over to the phone and dialed the number. John Paul and Ringo crowded around me to listen.

"Hello?" George answered in a slightly irritated voice.

"Hey, George, it's me Laynee!" I said.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" I asked.

"What do you want?" he asked again, getting even angrier.

"Oh, well I was wondering what time I needed to be home," I said as if I were a child.

"Why the hell would I care?" he asked.

"Oh, well I thought you'd want me home before ten, like any good father would."

"I'm not yer father!"

"Oh yeah! I forget sometimes. You sure do act like it. Alright, well I'll try to stay out of trouble. Bye!" I said.

"Laynee," he said before I could hang up the phone

"What?"

"I'm going to kill you." Was all he said.

"Love you too," I laughed then hung up the phone.

"What was that for?" Paul asked laughing at me as I went to sit on the sofa.

"Fun," I smiled. "we've been gone for an hour, you can only guess what they were doing."

"You're a trip," he rolled his eyes.

"You would know." I smirked at him.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Let me know what you think because I'm not so sure about this one. Sorry about the wait. I had a tough time thinking of what to write, but here it is, and like I said, let me know how you think. Also, if there's anything you want to see in the story let me know. It may help with my writing, y'know, having ideas. Anywho, here is chapter 7.**_

(Paul's P.O.V)

"Pa-ul," Laynee said, flipping around on the couch so that she was sitting there pretty much upside down.

"Yes," I said, laughing at her.

"Do you have any ice-cream?" She asked. Her hair was hanging down and touching the floor and she looked like a happy child would. A very beautiful happy child...

"No. I don't. Why?"

"I want some ice-cream!" She exclaimed.

"Wouldn't that make you fat?" John asked her jokingly.

"She's a Harrison, she can't get fat," Ringo commented, looking down at his watch for the umpteenth time.

"That's right Ringo!" Laynee said, holding out an upside down hand to Ringo for a high-five.

"Well it would..." John continued.

"Shut up, Lennon," Laynee snapped at him. He seemed to have struck a nerve with her, but I didn't quite understand how.

"Lennon? We're not on a first name basis anymore?" John asked in a mock-hurt kind of way.

"That's right, LENNON. Now, go buy me some ice-cream," Laynee demanded. It was hard for me to take her seriously when she was danglin upside down like a monkey.

"Why do I have to do it?" John whined.

"Because you're annoying me, now go!"

"Fine, fine," John grumbled, standing up.

"Don't let her push you around like that. She's six years younger than you, y'know," I told him as he headed towards the door.

"Oh I know. George keeps reminding me. How can I forget?" He laughed, walking out of the door.

Ringo followed shortly after.

"I've got somewhere I need to be. I'll be back later," he said, glancing at his watch again then walking out the door.

"And then there were two," She said, looking at the door.

She sat silently, thinking. I sat silently watching her think. I couldn't help it. The more I looked at her the happier I felt. I would never admit it to anybody, but I was mad for Laynee Harrison. I couldn't help it. She was just so... Perfect. Her hair her smile her voice, her everything. She's just...

_George's cousin_, I told myself.

_And you know John fancies her. Just leave it be_.

But I can't just leave it be...

"Paul," she said, snapping me out of my thoughts. She sat right-side-up on the couch.

"Yeah?"

"Where's your guitar?" she asked.

"Right behind you," I told her. She smiled that breathtaking smile of hers as she grabbed the guitar and began to strum it.

"You play?" I asked, surprised. I'd never seen her pick up a guitar before.

"Of course I play," she said. "I've just been mastering it recently." She then began to play a very familiar song- When I saw her Standing There.

"Now, I've been thinking, an I've had plenty of time to do that," she half-laughed. "and I want to know, what you got older, like really old, but continued singing the songs you do now, or have done."

I looked at her half amused and half confused.

"I mean, what if the Beatles lasted until you, let's say, seventy. If you sang the same songs that you do know it would sound creepy. Just imagine a seventy year old man singing this:

Well she was just seventeen

You know what I mean

And the way she looked

Was way beyond compare." She continued singing. Add her singing voice to the list of things about her that are perfect.

"Now wouldn't that just seem creepy?" She asked.

"Yes, it does. But I'd think we'd have new music." I moved from my spot across the room to the spot beside her on the sofa.

"Well, you wouldn't have to," she smiled.

"But you just said-"

"No no, listen. You just change up the lyrics to something like this:

Well she was just seventy

You know what I mean

Glasses on

And she had gray hair

But how could I go and dance with her

When she couldn't get out the chair," she sang.

I nearly died laughing. She smiled.

"You see, it sounds so much better for an old man. He doesn't sound like some sort of creeper."

"Yeah, that could work. And instead of the "well my heart went boom" part it could be more:

If she fell goes boom

Then I'd know she's doomed

So I sat down at her side

How could I go and dance with her

When he couldn't get out her chair." Laynee sang the last part with me and finished laughing.

"There you go! You've got it! Just recycle your old music and you've got brand new songs."

"You are a mess," I laughed.

"I get bored," she said, putting the guitar back where she got it.

I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Laynee," I said.

"Yeah," she looked up at me.

"I just wanted to-" I didn't actually finish what I was going to. Instead I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers. The look in her eyes was one of almost panic, but it must have just been shock because she willingly kissed me back. I cupped her face in my hands and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I couldn't believe I did it, but I did. Suddenly she pulls back.

"I-I shouldn't have done that," she said, talking to herself. "I'm sorry Paul, but I can't- I just can't right now. It's not your fault. I've just got a lot going on right now."

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry," I said, feeling shot down. Maybe there was something going on between her and John.

"It's not your fault," she said again. "There's just some stuff I have to deal with right now."

I sighed and nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: here's the next chapter. I would have updated yesterday, but my iPod decided to crash. Likewise, this chapter would have been better, but it was on my iPod that crashed, and it was deleted (along with about 100 other notes and such) so just bear with me tad I try to re-write these next few chapters since I lost them all (and everything else on my iPod) ENJOY!**_

_(Laynee's P.O.V)_

Why did Paul have to go and do that? I mean, really? Not like I wasn't confused enough.

"It's not your fault," I told him. "I've just got some stuff I've got to deal with right now." Like a baby. And John. And George wanting to kill John... And me.

Paul and I were getting on just fine-we always do, and suddenly he's kissing me (and I'm not stopping him.) I didn't think I liked Paul like that, but now I don't know. My mind is just too jumbled to make anything out that is clear.

I tried sorting things out in my mind, but didn't have much luck with that since John came back, holding a carton of ice-cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"You ok?" He asked, looking over at Paul and I.

"Great," I replied. "Just waiting on you... What's with the spoon?"

"This? To eat the ice-cream, of course," he said, handing me the ice-cream and the spoon.

"I've got spoons," Paul said.

"She doesn't want to use your spoons, McCartney," he said as I began to eat.

"I don't care what I eat it with," I replied. "As long as I get to eat it."

"Where's Ringo?" John asked, looking around then sitting down on my other side.

"Dunno," Paul said. "He left right after you did."

"He's out seeing a lady-friend," I exclaimed, jokingly.

"Ringo? Ha. No, he's probably out getting boozed up or something," John said.

"Well we may never know," I said.

"No, I do know. I know Ringo," John said, taking the spoon out from my hand, eating a spoonful of the ice-cream.

"Hey! That's mine!" I exclaimed.

"You didn't walk to go get it," he replied. "You want some, Paul?"

"Wouldn't mind if I do," Paul replied, taking the spoon from John who was holding it above my head.

"Well, help yourselves," I muttered.

"Did you want some more, Harrison?" John asked, taking the spoon back from Paul.

"Yes I do, Lennon," I said, fake-pouting.

"Ah, well here, open up for the choo choo train," he said as he made his best train noises as he fed me a spoonful of ice-cream.

"What the hell was that?" Paul laughed.

"I'd like to see you do it better!" John challenged.

"I will," Paul said, taking the spoon back from John.

They went back and forth like that, making obscene vehicle noises (some including absurd animal noises), and feeding me ice-cream. Nobody noticed when Ringo came back.

"Did I come at a bad time?" He asked after John got through making some sort of strange horse noise, resulting in laughter from all of us.

"Ritchie!" I exclaimed, jumping up and giving him a hug. "Where ya been?" I asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet.

"Out and about," he replied, vaguely. "What'd you do to Laynee?" He asked John and Paul.

John held up the almost-empty carton of ice-cream.

"I'd offer you some, but its almost gone. John can go and-"

"No." He cut me off. "I'm not going back out."

"Fine." I turned to Ringo. " I'd offer you some, but John won't go and get it, so sorry." I was still bouncing around. The sugar was starting to kick in and it was making me hyper... I normally didn't eat a lot of sugar...

"Calm down!" Ringo said, trying to hold me still.

"Sorry," I said, sitting back down. "So what'dya wanna do now?"


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: it's been a few days since I've updated, but the other day I was watching Yellow Submarine, then I went out of town with no Internet all week, but here is the next chapter (more are coming soon!) enjoy!**_

(Ringo's P.O.V)

When I got back to Paul's house Laynee was acting like a wind-up doll that was wound up too tight. She was bouncing of the walls. Paul and John were feeding her ice-cream and making some kind of God-awful noises.

"Did I come at a bad time?" I asked observing the scene in front of me.

"Ritchie!" Laynee exclaimed, jumping up and almost tackling me with a hug. "Where ya been?"

"Out and about." Like it mattered to them. "What'd you do to Laynee?" I asked John and Paul who were more than amused by the hyperactive girl standing in front of me. John just held up a carton of ice-cream.

"I'd offer you some," she said, "but its almost gone. John can go and-"

"No." John stopped her. "I'm not going back out."

"Fine." She grumbled. " I'd offer you some, but John won't go and get it, so sorry."

I was going to say that it was fine, but she wasn't paying much attention.

"Calm down!" I exclaimed, trying to keep her still. She was staring to freak me out a bit.

"Sorry," she said, sitting back down. "So what'dya wanna do now?"

I looked down at my watch.

"It's getting late. We need to be headed back to George's."

"Aw, but he said he didn't care when I got home!" Laynee whined.

"He's right. George is probably worried about you. It's almost midnight," Paul said.

"And if we don't get you home before morning George would really kill me," John said, as if George was already going to kill him.

"Fine, let's go," she sighed, standing up.

"Don't grumble. It's past your bedtime, missy," John said pointing a finger at her.

"I don't have a bedtime, mister," Laynee replied.

We headed out the door. All the way there Laynee couldn't just walk. She was skipping, jumping, and eventually her sugar high died out and tired her out. She nearly passed out and hit the concrete. Luckily, John caught her and carried the rest of the way.

"At least she's finally shut up," John said when he picked her up.

When we got back to George's house Pattie had already left. Paul opened the door for John and I followed behind both of them, shutting the door. John took nearly two steps into the house when George exploded.

"What the hell did you do to Laynee?" He yelled.

"Shush," John whispered. "She's sleeping." He carries her off to her room.

"She just got tired George, don't worry. She'll be fine," I said putting a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?" He asked, still worried.

"She just ate a lot of ice-cream, got hyper, then passed out," Paul said as if it was nothing.

"Why?" George asked.

"Now George, I'm not sitting here asking about what you and Pattie did while we were gone, so don't worry what we did," Paul said.

"Well Pattie isn't YOUR responsibility," George pointed out.

At that point John walked back in.

"Well Laynee is all tucked in and what-not," he said, sitting down on the sofa next to Paul.

"What'd you do to her?" George asked him. He didn't seem to trust any of us.

"Nothing," John grinned. "Why would I?"


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: well here is another chapter. I've noticed my chapters have been rather short in length, so this is a bit longer. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

I woke up in own bed. I didn't remember much. I was at Paul's house, we were leaving, and now I wake up in my bed. Wait... There was a moment when I was being laid down in my bed.

"Who are you?" I mumbled groggily. There was somebody here, wherever I was, and I didn't know who.

"John," they laughed at me.

"Oh," I said, snuggling into the blanket that was around me. "John, where am I?" It was dark and I couldn't tell. The only light was coming from a door that was opened just a crack.

"In your room, love," he laughed again.

"Oh," I said again. "Why?"

"Because I brought you here."

He must have thought I was crazy, but I honestly couldn't remember.

He looked at me for a minute, expecting me to say something else. I eventually closed my eyes and snuggled deeper into my blanket.

"Laynee," he finally said.

"Hmm?" I asked, not even bothering to open my eyes.

"Can I kiss you again?" He asked.

Without even thinking about what he had just said, and with my eyes still shut, trying to make it to a state of sleep, I answered with a quiet "mhmm."

I didn't realise what he'd asked until his lips pressed against mine. My eyes snapped open and I pulled away quickly.

"I thought you said I could-"

"No," I replied, rolling over to my other side. He sighed and walked out of my room.

That was last night. At least I think it was. Maybe I dreamed that...

I climbed out of my bed, stretching and moaning. I walked out of the room and noticed that there was nobody there. Then I remembered they had to work, but I couldn't remember what exactly they were doing.

I got a quick shower then decided to clean up. The house was a mess, but that was because I'd been neglecting to clean it up. I got halfway through the kitchen when I remembered I had a pet bird. I hadn't fed it since the day before. I ran back to my room only to find the bird (and its cage) was not in my room. I panicked for a moment, searching everywhere I could for Presley. I finally came to George's room and saw Presley's cage sitting on his dresser.

"Doctor," it squawked at me. "12:30."

Doctor? 12:30? I couldn't figure out what Presley was talking about until it finally clicked. I had a doctor's appointment at 12:30, and I'd completely forgotten about it. I checked the clock: 12:15. I had to hurry!

"Thank you!" I told the bird.

"Thank you," it repeated. I took Presley back to my room, where the food was.

I was still laughing at how clever George was to use the bird to remind me. I would have never found a note or anything. It must have taken him forever to get Presley to say that when it saw me, though.

I quickly scribbled a note telling them I was out buying groceries and I'd be back soon. I then bolted out the door.

I made it to the doctor's office just in time. I signed in, they called me back and proceeded with the normal procedure of my recent doctor's visits, but I'm not describing it all in detail. Who needs to know what goes on at the doctor?

I did find out the gender of the baby- a boy. I decided to go home and finish cleaning (oh joy) but I had to go and buy groceries first, since I said I was.

I finally made it back to George's, arm ladened with bags. I kicked the door to see if anybody was home -they had to be. There were the familiar cars of my companions in the driveway. The door was soon opened, but by an unfamiliar face.

"Who are you?" I asked the girl staring back at me.

"Who are YOU?" She asked, staring at me and the bags in my hand.

"I happen to live here, thank you," I snapped, "and I'd like to know who is in my house."

Before she could answer Ringo stepped up beside her.

"Hi there Laynee, oh, you need help with that?" He grabbed the bags from my hands. "I see you've met Maureen. "

"Who?" I asked, stepping into the house. Maureen left when a car pulled up to the end of the driveway.

"My girlfriend," Ringo answered simply after giving Maureen a quick peck on the cheek.

I nearly laughed out loud, but held it back and just said "oh" as he went and put the groceries up for me.

"She's alive!" John exclaimed when I walked into the room.

"I am?" I asked, lifting each arm then poking myself. "Yeah, I guess I am." Everyone laughed.

I looked around for a place to sit, but seeing none I chose to sit on the floor.

"You can sit here if you like," Paul said, standing up.

"No thanks. The floor needs love too," I replied.

"What?" George asked, looking at me as if I was insane.

"The floor is here for you everyday, any time you need it, and what do you do? Just walk all over it. Sometimes it needs to be used for something else to feel appreciated.

Everyone just laughed at me. Ringo walked back in, sitting beside me.

"Ringo," I said when he sat down. "Why didn't I know you had a girlfriend?"

"I dunno. It just became official, really," he shrugged. "Why didn't I know your birthday is next week?"

I stared blankly at him. "It is?" I thought for a second then remembered. "Oh! It is! I completely forgot."

"We can tell," George laughed. "That's what I'm here for."

I sighed. "Yes it is."


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Here is chapter 11. I'm kind of if-y about it. It's not one of my favourites I've written, but oh well. It's out for everyone to see now. Enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

My birthday rolled around quicker than I expected. It was the day before my birthday and George told me needed to talk to me. He made sure everyone was gone before he talked to me. I was sitting on the sofa eating a bowl of cereal.

"Laynee, you need to tell them," George said, looking at me seriously.

"Tell them what?" I asked, a mouthful of food.

"You know what I'm talking about. You need to tell them before they find out on their own. Paul and Ringo are pretty bright, they'll notice sooner or later."

"But-"

"Pattie already knows," he said, stopping me.

"What? How?" I demanded.

"She figured it out herself- I didn't tell her, I swear."

I knew she would. That's the thing with girls, we have a thing for noticing something wrong with someone else.

"Do I really have to tell them?" I whined.

"Yes. You are not going to be able to hide -that- much longer," he said motioning towards my belly.

"Fine. I'll tell them tomorrow. Great birthday surprise, huh?" I muttered, taking my bowl and putting it in the sink.

The next day a lay in bed as long as I could, but George eventually came and dragged me out.

"You're still going to do it," he whispered in my ear. "Happy birthday."

(Paul's P.O.V)

After over an hour of waiting, Laynee finally came out of her room and into the living room. That was an hour of waiting, for me, to give her the present I'd gotten for her. Sure, everyone else got her something, but I wanted her to get mine first. I was sure she'd love it.

"Now she decides to show!" John exclaimed from across the room.

"It's my birthday. I show when I want to," she said, sitting down next to me.

"I hate to get you up when you just sat down, but I have to show you something," I whispered in her ear. She excitedly jumped up and followed me down the hall. I led her to George's music room. When we got to the door I stopped and covered her eyes with one hand, opening the door with the other. When the door creaked open I uncovered her eyes to reveal a brand new Rickenbacker with a bow tied around the neck. Sure, John had one he played, and George had tons of guitars, but this was Laynee's own guitar!

She took one look at it.

"Oh my gosh! Paul! It's... Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed. Then she suddenly kissed me. I was too shocked to think about it then. I could hardly believe it. "Thank you!"

"N-no problem," I stammered, still a little shocked.

"Sorry 'bout that," she said, biting her lip.

"'S no problem," I said.

She looked at the guitar as if she was longing to play it, but she turned and shut the door.

"We need to get back before George sends out a search team," she said. I followed her back to the living room.

We both sat back down.

"So..." Laynee said. I noticed George give her some kind of look. They seemed to be having some kind of silent conversation. Pattie seemed to know what was going on and gave Laynee an apologetic glance. Laynee eventually stuck her tongue out George then looked around at everybody. George and Pattie were sitting together in a couple of kitchen chairs. Ringo and Maureen were sitting on the sofa along with Laynee and me. John was sitting on the floor near George and Pattie.

"Well," Laynee started. "I've got something to tell you all, and I know some of you already know." She looked over towards John George and Pattie. "But some of you don't, and you'd have found out sooner or later."

I sat there trying to figure out what she was talking about. I saw John look over to George and whisper something. George responded and John had a sudden look of realisation.

"Yeah, so I'm going to tell you all now..." She really seemed to be trying to put it off, but why?

"Laynee's pregnant," John said for her.

As soon as the words left his mouth I snapped around and looked at Laynee. Pregnant? How?

"John, what did you do?" Ringo asked, trying to break the tension that suddenly built up in the room.

"I didn't do anything, thank you," John snapped.

But still. Laynee... What?

I saw her looking nervously around at everybody. Ringo and Maureen were talking amongst themselves. John sat shaking his head. George Laynee and Pattie were having another silent conversation, and I just sat there. Well, Laynee being pregnant made things make more sense, like the way she's been acting and all, but still, I couldn't believe it.

"How?" I finally asked. Laynee sat there silently, holding back tears. Instead of her responding George did, and the story made me sick.

"I'm sorry," I told her.

"'S Not your fault," she said. Without thinking I reached over and grabbed her hand and rubbed her fingers in a comforting way. She smiled slightly.

Finally breaking the awkward silence that had been created, John spoke up: "So, who wants cake?"

"I do!" Laynee exclaimed, jumping up and acting as if nothing happened.

Everyone else replied in a similar fashion and everyone gathered in the kitchen.

(Laynee's P.O.V)

Everybody sat/stood around the kitchen eating the cake Pattie and Maureen took the time to make. Everybody was trying act normal after I -well John- told them that I was pregnant, but them faking being normal made things a little more awkward.

"Good girl," George whispered in my ear when he had the chance. I stuck my tongue out at him again.

"That was very brave," Pattie said quietly.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I was gonna have to do it anyway."

"I wouldn't have been able to do it," she commented.

"I didn't. John did. Besides, I don't think George would do that to you," I smiled at her. She blushed and walked away.

It wasn't long before the entire cake was gone- and I'd only had one piece. John Paul George and Ringo had completely devoured it.

"That was delicious," Ringo commented.

"I wouldn't know," Maureen laughed. She'd only had a single piece too.

"Well, off to presents!" John exclaimed.

"Presents?" Ringo joked. "I was supposed to buy one of those?"

It turns out Ringo actually helped Paul with his present, since obviously it wasn't very cheap. John helped George and Pattie pick out their gift(s). They got me almost an entire nursery just so I wouldn't have to buy it myself, which was extremely amazing since I didn't even think about needing it. That would make sense as to why George wanted me to tell everybody now instead of later...

"Boy or girl?" George asked after I opened the last present.

"Boy," I said.

"That'll be fun," John smiled.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Sorry about the wait. I pulled something in my back the other day, keeping my mind off writing, and I've also not had Internet the past few days, but I do now! Ok, so this is random, but I love it when I'm listening to music with my mom to find she voluntarily has Beatles music on her phone. I've influenced her. Yay! **_

_**Also, all O.C.'s in the story are strictly fictional. Any resemblance to any real person(s) is strictly coincidental (yeah... Coincidence... Because I don't know someone who acts just like the O.C in this chapter...)**_

(Ringo's P.O.V)

Well, Laynee gave us all a shock. There was no possible way that I would have guessed that she was pregnant, but we all have our secrets, I guess. Maureen had said that she knew, but I don't know if she was telling the truth or not. Maybe that's a thing with women. They just know things about each other...

Laynee'd finished opening her presents when George asked her if the baby was going to be a girl or a boy.

"Boy," she said.

"That'll be fun," John said, smiling.

"Have you thought about names?" Maureen asked her.

Laynee looked around for a minute than finally said "No."

"Not at all?"

"No. I never really thought about naming it- him," she corrected herself.

"I can see you now," I said. "You'll get to the hospital, have the baby then when you're filling out the birth certificate you'd turn to the doctor and go 'well, what do YOU think I should name him?'"

"And I'd do it," she laughed. "But really, I'll probably get to that soon."

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)

I'd told Ringo that I'd get to naming my baby soon, but that didn't really happen. I'd actually ended up forgetting about names. Not like I meant to- I just got distracted.

It'd been a couple of weeks since my birthday, and I'd been faithfully playing my new guitar every chance I got. I loved seeing Paul's beaming smile when he walked in and saw me playing.

"You might just be getting better than George," he'd joke.

John would always follow up with a: "Watch out Georgie, we might just have a replacement."

Which would always result in George rolling his eyes and telling me to put it up until they were finished with what they were doing-whatever it was that day.

In those couple of weeks I'd given away Presley. Taking care of a bird was just too much stress, and having it talk to me every night while I was trying to sleep was way too annoying...

One day Paul rushed into the house in an extremely exasperated manor.

"You alright, Paul?" I asked, setting my guitar aside and standing up, which was a lot harder than before considering the continually growing belly of mine.

"Is she still out there?" He asked.

"Who?" I asked, confused, walking to the window where he was standing.

He ignored my question and peeked out the window.

"Phew, she's gone," he sighed.

"Who?" I demanded again, looking out into the empty street.

"Some girl. Her name is Melissa. She's been following me around all day!"

"Why?" I laughed, walking back to the sofa and sitting down.

"I don't know!" He exclaimed, following me. "I just spoke to her and she's acting like I asked her to marry me or something." He ran his fingers through his hair in a frustrated way.

"Maybe in her country speaking to a girl is a proposal of marriage," I suggested.

"Sorry, but last time I checked that wasn't the custom in France, that's where she's from. She told me all about her life." He nearly screamed. "I don't care!"

I laughed again. "You're Paul McCartney, of course you going to have a stalker or two."

"Yeah, but they can do it at a distance. Melissa is like a puppy. No many how many times you reject her she just keeps coming back, right to your feet. It's driving me insane!"

"I can tell. How long has it been?" I asked.

"Just a few days, but still, It's driving me crazy, and I can't take it!"

"Calm down," I urged him.

"Sorry," he said. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Exhausted," I replied. "But that doesn't matter. I'm used to it." He shook his head. "Don't give me that look. I'm fine."

"You say that."

"And I am."

"Hello there Paul!" George exclaimed, walking into the living room from his room. "Is Melissa still after you?" He laughed, sitting down.

"Yes," he groaned.

"Ha. Well have you seem John lately?" George asked.

"Not since you have," he replied.

None of us had seen John for a few days, and with John Lennon that is highly uncommon. He usually shows up every night just in time to eat. But we hadn't seen him. He was M.I.A.

Not too long after George inquiring about John the door opened and in stepped some girl I'd never seen before. I looked over to Paul to see if this girl was 'Melissa' but he didn't seem to know her either.

"Excuse me," I said politely as I stood up and walked towards her. "Who are you?"

"I'm Valerie. You must be-" she stopped to look at me. "Laynee," she sneered.

"Yeah, I'm Laynee, but telling me you're 'Valerie' gives me no explanation as to why you're in my house."

"John said this isn't your house. You just live here because you're George's cousin and you needed a place to stay because you got knocked up by some guy in America," she said in one of the rudest tones I'd ever heard.

"He said it like that, just like that?" I asked, growing irritated.

"Well not really, but still, it's the same thing no matter how he said it." She pranced around me and sat in MY spot next to Paul on the sofa.

"Did I invite you in?" I asked rudely. Forget being polite, I am not about to deal with this by being nice.

"No, Johnny did. He said go on in. He said he's practically family here."

"He is," I told her. "You're not."

She just rolled her eyes at me.

"Where is John anyway?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest and tapping my foot impatiently.

"Oh he should be coming in any moment," she shrugged, and as she said that John walked in.

"Who the hell is she?" I demanded, pointing an angry finger towards the direction of Valerie.

"I told her I was Valerie. I guess she doesn't get it," she said, talking as if I was slow or something.

"I know you're Valerie!" I exclaimed. "Why are you here?"

"That's me girl," John said, walking over to her and sitting beside her.

"Since when?" Scoffed.

"Since yesterday, silly," Valerie giggled.

"Oh, since yesterday. Excuse me for not knowing," I said sarcastically.

I was going to sit down, but the sofa was full, so I managed to sit on the floor. Getting back up was going to be a problem though.

I looked over angrily at Valerie. For some reason everything about her irritated me- her voice, her dark brown hair, the short skirt and tight shirt she wore, the over-done makeup, that gap in her teeth, everything, and I couldn't quite figure out why. Deep down I knew it was jealousy, but I wasn't going to admit it like that.

Every time someone tried to start a new conversation, Valerie would always bring it back to her.

"So the other day I was tuning me guitar-" George tried to begin his story.

"Have you heard Johnny play?" Valerie asked. The way she was all over John made me want to strangle her.

"They're in a band together, idiot," I replied. "Of course we've all heard John play.

"Oh, well he played me the sweetest song last night. It was amazing."

"How lovely," I rolled my eyes, trying not to let that jealous feeling get to me.

I noticed John watching me out of the corner of his eye. Of course, everybody -apart from Valerie who was solely focused on John- was watching me. Every time she would open her mouth I would retort with a witty comment.

Eventually all attempt of conversation ended and we listened to Valerie talk and complain and gossip. She finally said something that set me off, and I had to leave.

"You know, it's a good thing you don't go out in public much," she said in a matter-of-fact kind of way. Both George and Paul gave her a 'what the hell are you talking about' look, but I actually said it.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, wanting to know what she had to say about me.

"I mean, look at the way you dress! And that horrid belly of yours! Who would want to go out looking like that?" She said with no consideration of me.

I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I grew angry.

"Looking like what?" I asked, gritting my teeth to keep from yelling at her.

"Looking like a balloon about to pop or something. It's disgusting. You look like a tramp or something."

With that I jumped up quicker than I thought I would have been able to, and, restraining myself, I excused myself politely.

"I'm going to see if there is... Something... In the kitchen," I said quickly as I exited the room and into the kitchen.

Hot tears streamed down my face and I felt like screaming. How could John bring her here, and rub her in my face that he was done with me. There was nothing to be done with really, because there was nothing started, but I still hadn't decided if I liked him or not. The way I felt now told me that I'd been falling for John Lennon and didn't even realize it. But now it was too late. Now his smiles, his jokes, his melting glances and his kisses all went to the monster of a girl sitting in my living room.

I began to angrily chop up an apple, but in my frustration I broke the knife and the apple pieces fell to the floor.

"Well there goes my idea of eating an apple," I grumbled to myself.

After I calmed down a bit- and I cleaned up the mess- I decided to try my luck again in the living room, but that idea was also soon a failure. As soon as I walked in I saw that George had gone of to do something, Paul was playing my guitar, and John and Valerie were oblivious to the world seeing as they were lip-locked on the sofa, not noticing anything going on around them. That really set me off the edge, and I really had to choke back tears when I announced that what I was looking for wasn't in the kitchen, so I was going out to get it. When the door shut safely behind me the tears fell. Tears of anger, pain, jealousy, bitterness.

I hardly noticed I'd been followed until there was a hand on my shoulder that spun me around into a hug. My nose was filled with the familiar scent of Paul's jacket, and we just stood there on the side walk, hugging. He was kind enough to not talk and just let me cry. He was once again there to comfort me, and I knew he always would be.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: So here is the next chapter! Sort of a change from the last chapter. Oh, and don't think I'm some psycho for creating a character like Valerie. I know someone who acts just like her, and I had to spend an entire weekend with her (and wrote that chapter over the weekend) and I found the character fit... Anywho, on a completely different note I watched Nowhere Boy finally :)**_

_**Oh, right. You don't care about my useless babble. Well, without further ado, I give you chapter 13.**_

(George's P.O.V)

I walked back into the living room to see the door slam, Paul jumping up to follow Laynee out, and John and Valerie on the sofa. Valerie was laughing by the time Paul made it out the door.

"What the hell did you do to Laynee?" I demanded.

"Nothing," John said, still looking at the door.

"I don't see why you care so much. She's not that important," Valerie said.

I've never met such an inconsiderate human being in all my life. Valerie honestly didn't care what she said.

"John, can I talk to you? Again," I demanded. He stood up, whispered something to Valerie, setting her off in giggles again, then followed me out of the room.

"What do you want this time, Harrison?" He asked.

"What the hell do you think your doing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he shrugged.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," I growled.

"No, I don't, but if I did I would tell you it's none of your business."

"What goes on in my house is my business," I responded. "And especially what happens to Laynee. That's my business to, just remember that." I picked up a broken knife of the counter, guessing it was left by Laynee.

He rolled his eyes "Of course I will, Harrison." Then he walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)

Laynee was still crying when I looked over her shoulder. Standing only a few feet away was Melissa.

"Shit," I muttered.

"What's wrong?" Laynee asked, looking up at me.

"Nothing," I whispered. She turned around to see the curly headed girl smiling at me.

Laynee sighed and turned back around, looked at me, shook her head then went back inside.

I stopped to glare at Melissa before I followed Laynee back inside.

Back inside I saw George standing outside Laynee's room, trying to talk to her, but to no avail. John was looking over his shoulder, and he looked slightly worried, but that look soon vanished when Valerie said "Don't worry about her. She doesn't matter."

After I gave him a look he stood up.

"Well, I take it we're not wanted here at the moment." Then they left.

"Laynee," I said, stepping up to the door, "they've left."

"I don't care!" She said.

George shook his head. "Just go home, Paul. I'll take care of her, and if I can't do it Pattie should be here soon."

I nodded and left.

* * *

(Laynee P.O.V)

George stood outside my room for the longest time trying to get me to talk, but I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to cry. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and I just needed to lay here. I guess I fell asleep because I was awakened by another knock on the door, and this time a different voice asking me to open the door. It was Pattie, and although she wasn't my favourite person I was beginning to like her more and more lately.

"Laynee, can I come in?" She asked through the door.

I rubbed my eyes and unlocked the door. She opened it and came and sat beside me on my bed.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said like a mother would. Obviously George told her what happened. "Now, do you want to talk about it?"

"No," I grumbled. That was the farthest thing from what I wanted to do. I just wanted to forget.

"C'mon," she urged. "We're both girls here. When was the last time you had girl talk?"

"Girl talk? What's that?" I asked in a joking way.

"Yeah, you need it badly." She smiled. "Where shall we begin?" We both faced each other cross-legged on my bed the way two young girls would when they were about to gossip about something.

"How about John," she suggested.

"What about him?" I asked. John Lennon was not who I wanted on my mind at the moment, but he was, and had been almost all day.

"What do you think about him?"

"He's an absolute prick," I replied.

"Besides that," she insisted. "What's got you so upset about him?"

I sighed. I'd never told anybody my real feelings about him. I wasn't sure of them myself.

"C'mon, I promise not to tell."

"John," I began. "John... He's one of those people that I can joke around with and he'll play along. He gets the sarcasm when I use it, and he's... Gah! Have you seen him?" Pattie just laughed. "He was the first person to find out I was pregnant. And he kept that secret. I trusted him. I honestly did, and that was stupid. Not only was he the first to find out, he was also my first real kiss, and that means something to me." I stopped because I had to push back tears.

"I remember that night," Pattie laughed, trying to cheer me up again. "The entire night George acted as if he was about to go to Paul's house and rip off John's head. And when he finally calmed down you called," she said, pointing a finger at me.

"Ha, I forgot about that," I smiled.

She smiled back. It was so nice to finally be able to talk. I'd bottled up so much lately it's nice to let it out.

"Now, I know about John, what about Paul?"

"Paul? Well..." I thought for a minute. "He's sweet and kind and caring. He's always there for me, and he doesn't care what's going on, he'll just stop what he's doing and come running for me. He think before he acts. He's adorable... And he's one hell of a kisser," I smiled a bit.

"So you've kissed him to?" Pattie asked, slightly surprised.

"Twice," I laughed a little shakily. "But why does it matter what I think about them? John has _Valerie_," I sneered the name. "And Paul has Melissa following him around like a lost animal." I sighed. "I don't have either one for myself, so this talk was completely useless."

"Don't be a pessimist," Pattie said, lightly pushing my shoulder in a playful way. "Do you really like them?"

I nodded.

"Well, which do you like better?"

I shook my head as if to clear it. "I don't know!"

She shook her head laughing at me. "Do I need to leave so you can think about it?"

"No! That never helps!" I exclaimed.

So she didn't leave. She stayed and we talked for I-don't-know -how -long. The conversation was ended when George knocked on the door.

"Everything ok in there?" He asked.

"Great!" I called back. "I think he might be wanting you back," I smiled.

"Yeah, I think so," she laughed. "If you ever need anything just call."

"Sure thing," I said as she left the room.

I laid back on my bed, stretching out my legs. As I laid there silently, I heard George and Pattie's voices quietly outside the door.

"So what's up?" George inquired, obviously about me.

"Your cousin is in love," Pattie told him.

"With who?" George demanded.

"I don't think even she knows the answer to that."

Then the voices were gone.

Me? In love? George was right, with who? Instead of trying to figure it out (and possibly upsetting and/or confusing me even more) I slipped into the living room, grabbed my guitar, then headed back to my room to play it.


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I've been busy with school and chores and such. I've also found myself coming to more and more creative roadblocks, so it takes me a littwe longer to get the chapter written.**__**Once again this is one of those chapters I don't personally like, but it's needed for the story... Anyway, forgive my rambling. Enjoy the chapter!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

Things were finally back to almost normal. Paul and Ringo-with Maureen most of the time- still stopped by all the time. Pattie was also a regular visitor, but that is completely normal, y'know, since she is dating George. John also came by, luckily alone, but his visits were short and few in number.

It'd been almost a month since my birthday, and I'd finally decided to set up the lovely gifts the George Pattie and John had gotten me, which required me to clean up and clean out my room. Sure, there were other rooms in the house in which I could put up a nursery, but I wanted it to be in my room, so that's where I'm putting it.

It was also time for me to clean the kitchen. I'd completely neglected the kitchen. I'd just left the dishes to pile up, and it was finally time to get that done. Maybe I'd be more useful around the house if I didn't have Pluto under my shirt. Of course, I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for that.

I started in the kitchen first. There really wasn't much to do, just the dishes like I'd said before. So maybe it was that much...

I was almost done when I heard the front door open and close. I put down the plate I was holding and dried off my hands and cautiously walked through the doorway to see who it was. I wasn't expecting anybody to be home until later tonight, or at least that's what George had told me.

When I looked in to see who it was I'd almost wished I hadn't because it was the last person I wanted to see- Valerie.

"What're you doing here?" I demanded.

"Well Johnnie said he wouldn't be home 'til later tonight, and that he'd be stopping by here before he came home, and I just can't wait that long to see him, so I decided I'd stay here until he comes by," she said. I frowned. The sound of her fake-posh accent nearly made me want to strangle her as much as the reason she just gave me as to why she was here.

"Why don't you go home?" I asked her.

She laughed at me as she stretched across the sofa.

"My parents kicked me out. That's why I'm living with John."

"You live with him?" I asked, surprised. "Since when?"

"It's been like a month now," she shrugged.

A month? They'd been living together for a month? I don't know why, but that upset me more than it probably should have.

"Oh..." Was all I could say.

I decided to pretend she wasn't there as I finished the kitchen, but it was much harder to do as I made it into my room. She followed in there like a little child would do their mother. Every time I would pick up something she would say something, and it took all I had in me not to throw what was in my hand at her every time she opened her mouth.

"Can you just go somewhere?" I exclaimed. "Just go! Find something else to do!"

"Fine then," she grumbled, walking out of the room.

I was able to finish the cleaning of my room, and I was pleased with the result. My entire far wall consisted now of just a window. All of the other useless junk was either moved somewhere else or just thrown away. I didn't need it anyway.

Now came the fun part- figuring out how to assemble and where to put all of this damn baby stuff.

I was about to start when I heard a loud crash come from the kitchen.

"Shit," I muttered, putting down the instruction manual that'd come with the crib and jumping up as quick as I could to see what had happened. I was hoping it wasn't what I thought it was, but a loud "sorry" from Valerie didn't help.

"What the hell did you do?" I asked her when I made it to the kitchen to survey the mess.

It was as I had feared. The dishes I'd stacked on the counter to dry were laying on the floor- mostly in pieces.

"Oops?" She said. "I got hungry, and they just fell... Oh well, you needed new dishes any way. Those looked horrid anyway."

"I can't just go buy new dishes! That costs money!" I exclaimed.

"Don't you have a job?" She asked.

I felt like laughing, but not because anything was funny. I laugh when I get extremely angry. It's just a weird thing that happens. I don't know why.

"A job?" I scoffed. "You think I could work like this?" I gestured at my belly. "Don't YOU have a job? You broke it, you should pay for it."

"I got fired last week, so John's been taking care of me. Isn't that sweet?" She asked.

"Lovely," I muttered. I looked back down at the mess. "Are you going to clean it up?" I asked.

"Ha! Me, clean it up? Don't you know I could get glass or something in my hand? Of course I'm not going to touch that mess," she said, stepping right over the glassy mess and out of the room.

I started laughing this time. As soon as she left the room I just laughed for a minute. Then it went from laughing to crying as I grabbed the broom. I swept the broken pieces into the dust pan, filling it up more than once. The few things I did save looked lonely sitting in the cabinet.

I'd finally cleaned up and calmed down enough to exit the kitchen and go back to my room. Unfortunately, Valerie decided it was a brilliant idea to through the pile of things I was planning on moving somewhere or throwing away. She had it strewn out all over the clean part of the room.

"What are you doing?" I cried.

"Just looking," she said as if what she was looking through wasn't mine and very personal.

I saw that she was reading my journal that I'd been keeping since I got here. I nearly tackled her as I jumped over the mess and snatched it out of her hand.

"Hey, but I was reading something about John in there!" She said as if it were wrong.

"Hey, that's personal," I said, mocking her tone. I was praying she didn't read much of anything important in there.

"I didn't know John kissed you," she said after watching me put the journal back in its place.

Shit. She did read something.

"I think I know why you don't like me," she said after I didn't say anything.

"Why? Why don't I like you?" I asked her... That wooden crib leg was looking very inviting at the moment.

"You're just jealous of me. I've got John and your just an ugly single pregnant girl who looks like she swallowed the moon. You don't like me because John wants me instead of you."

"Get out!" I commanded her. "Get out of my room. Get out of my house. Just go!"

"I told you I'm not leaving until John comes by," she said, prancing out of the room with a satisfied smile on her face.

At least she was out of my room. As soon as she walked out of the room I slammed the door and grabbed the telephone that was on my nightstand.

I dialled the number and listened to it ring. With each ring I cried more and more. Valerie was breaking me, and I couldn't take it.

"Hello?" A voice answered.

"Pattie," I sobbed.

"Laynee? Honey, what's wrong?" Pattie asked, worried.

"I'm about to kill her," I said, still sobbing.

"Who? Valerie? Oh no, what happened?"

I took a deep breath, holding back the sobs and tears long enough to tell her what happened.

"Aw, hon, I'm sorry, but I can't make it over there right now. I'll come as soon as I can, but that may be an hour or more. Just stay away from sharp or dangerous objects."

"Thanks Pattie," I said, even though she didn't really do much to help.

"I'll see you soon, Laynee."

"Bye," I said, hanging up the phone and falling back on my bed.

After a few minutes of thinking I made a decision. Valerie said she wasn't leaving until John came by, and I can't deal with her all day. I didn't care what they were doing at the studio that was going to keep them there all day, I was getting Valerie out of my house. I sat up and picked up the phone. I dialled the number to the studio.

The phone rang a few times, but was soon picked up.

"Hello, George Martin, this is Laynee, George's cousin... Yeah, I was wondering if I could speak to John... Yes, I know that they're busy right now, but this is urgent... Yes, I'll wait. I don't mind." I held the phone up to my ear, waiting for John to pick up the phone.

From inside the studio I could hear a bit of a muffled conversation.

"But we're in the middle of something, Martin," I heard Paul complain.

"I know, but- what's her name?- Laynee sounded a bit upset. John, I think it's important. She asked to speak to you." George Martin said.

"Laynee?" I heard everyone ask at the same time. I then heard a slight shuffle of chair, instruments being set down, then a group of people walking closet and closer to the phone.

"Wha'd'ya want?" John asked, seeming rather irritated that he was interrupted.

"Come and get your girlfriend," I growled at him.

"What?"

"Your girlfriend. She's not leaving this house until you come by, and I'm not putting up with her crap all day. Now, either you come by and get her or she may just end up missing, an nobody will know what happened."

"Fine," he said, throwing down the phone, but not hanging it up. Before I could hang up myself, George's voice came over the line.

"Laynee, are you alright?" He asked in an extremely worried tone.

"Just dandy," I said sarcastically. "If you consider dandy to be hurt and upset in more than one way."

"You're hurt?" He exclaimed.

"Not physically, George, but it still hurts."

"I'm coming home. Right now!" He said.

"So is John. Bring Paul and Ringo. It can be a party," I said, again with heavy sarcasm.

I hung up the phone and lay on my bed until George got here.

John came and left with Valerie before anybody else made it. I heard him come in, but I didn't even bother getting up. I didn't want any more issues at the moment. Shortly after John and Valerie left George showed up. He was angry, and after I explained- best I could- what happened he was even angrier. He left the house shortly after he arrived.

After a while of just sitting there I realised there wasn't much I could do about the whole mess. I wasn't exactly sure what happened or why it happened anymore.

I finally decided to straighten back up my room and try to work on that crib again.


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Here is the next chapter. This would have been up sooner, but my iPod doesn't like to work properly sometimes. Anyway, enjoy! **_

(John's P.O.V)

"What did you do?" I demanded Valerie as I drove back home.

"I didn't do anything," she said, flipping her hair and looking out the window.

"Then why did I get a call from Laynee telling me to come and get you like you're a child that got kicked out of class?"

I was frustrated. Not at Laynee, she didn't do anything. Well, she did interrupt our recording session, but that wasn't her fault.

"Why do you care so much about her?" Valerie asked.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"I'm not blind, John, and I'm not stupid either. Why else would you go to George's house almost every day? Why else would you be so worried about me upsetting her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said quickly. "And Valerie, you've got to watch what you say. You have a tendency to..." I tried to think of the right thing to say.

"Tell the truth," she said as if that's what I meant.

"No!" I snapped. "You have a tendency to upset people."

"You mean Laynee," she rolled her eyes.

I pulled the car into the driveway.

"I'll be back in a little while," I said when she began to get out of the car.

"Where are you going?"

"It doesn't matter," I told her.

"Oh, going to check on Laynee, I'm guessing."

"Just stay here, please."

She slammed the door and I pulled out of the driveway. In my rear view mirror I saw Valerie standing there watching me, arms crossed her chest, angry.

* * *

(George's P.O.V)

I needed to talk to John. I was tired of his little girlfriend, and I was tired of her constantly upsetting Laynee. She has way too much to deal with already, and she doesn't need a little demon breathing down her neck all the time.

When I pulled into John's driveway I noticed his car wasn't there. I parked the car and climbed out. When I knocked on the door Valerie opened it.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"Where's John?"

"He probably left for your house. I don't know. He wouldn't tell me," she said, shutting the door in my face.

Why would John be headed back to my house?

I climbed back into the car to head back myself.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)

It wasn't long after George left that I heard the door open again, but I didn't care to see who it was. I decide to concentrate on what I was doing- trying to figure out where the screw was that connected the two pieces I had in my hand.

After a minute or so of searching I was distracted by the sound of voices coming from the other room. I put down the pieces and walked to the door, pressing my ear against it to hear better.

"Where do you think you're going?" This voice belonged to Pattie.

"I'm here to see Laynee." This voice shocked me a bit more. It belonged to John. What did he want?

"Well I don't really think she wants to talk to you right now... Or ever again."

"I just need to talk to her," John insisted.

Honestly, I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to talk to John or not.

"She's had enough problems thanks to you," Pattie told him. "She doesn't need any more. Just leave her be."

John sighed. "Fine. Just let her know I came by at least."

"Sure," Pattie said. Then the door shut.

I went back to what I was doing when Pattie peeked her head into the door.

"You alright?" She asked.

"I guess," I shrugged, moving to sit on my bed instead of on the floor. "Who was that just a minute ago?"

"Oh, it was John," she said, sitting down beside me.

"What'd he want?" I asked. I knew, but I was mostly keeping her off the subject of earlier.

"To see you."

"What for?"

"Dunno," she shrugged. "What are you doing there?" She asked, pointing towards the mess of pieces scattered about my floor.

"Attempting to put together a crib," I explained.

"By yourself?" She laughed.

"Yeah, that's why it's not done yet."

"I'll help. If I can figure it out, that is."

With the help of Pattie I got the crib up in half the time it would have taken me by myself. We were both laughing about something when George called her out of the room. I was picking up the spare screws when Paul came into my room. I didn't hear when either George or Paul got to the house, but it was hard to hear much of anything over mine and Pattie's laughter.

"Hey there, Paul!" I exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug.

"Well you're exceptionally cheery about something," he laughed, returning the hug.

"Pshh, yeah I'm 'cheery'. Look what I did!" I gestured to the newly standing crib.

"You sure that's safe?" He asked, looking at it doubtfully.

"Do you doubt my skill?" I asked, pretending to be hurt.

"Well..."

I glared at him.

"Of course not," he laughed.

"Good. So what's up with you?" I asked.

"Same as always." We both sat down on my bed.

"Melissa still follow you around?"

"Everywhere I go," he replied.

"Still drive you insane?"

"All the time."

"Well," I thought about what I was going to say before I said it. "Why don't you just tell her you have a girlfriend?"

"I doubt that would help. Besides, I don't," he said, completely missing the point of what I just said.

"We'll you could..." I said, looking at him. I was hoping he would understand what I was trying to say without me actually saying it.

"What are you talking ab-" he stopped mid-sentence, finally understanding what I was saying.

"You mean you-?" He didn't finish this sentence either, but I knew what he was talking about. I nodded my head.

I'd thought about it and I decided I was through with John. I was stupid for wasting my time. He'd made his mind up a long time ago.

"Really?" He asked, still sounding a bit shocked.

I laughed at him. "I wouldn't have said it of I didn't mean it."

"Oh," he said as if he were still processing what I'd said.

I just laughed at him again. He looked like a child who just got the bike he'd been asking for.

Suddenly he leaned in and kissed me. He seemed eager and excited. I just smiled and kissed him back.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked, pulling away.

"You," I said, still laughing.

"What'd I do?" He asked.

"Nothing," I rolled my eyes. He obviously didn't get how funny he was acting. "You're just acting like a child," I smiled, standing up. "I'm going to see my dear cousin." Paul followed, grabbing hold of my hand.

"Now she decides to show!" Ringo exclaimed. "'S about time."

"I didn't know I was supposed to come out of my room sooner," I said, walking over and standing against the wall so I could see George Pattie and Ringo, who I did not know was there.

"Well I thought you would want to see me," Ringo said in his joking way.

"I didn't know you were here, so it's not my fault."

"I sent Paul in there to get you," he said as if I should have known.

"Oh, so it's his fault then," I concluded. "Since I wasn't informed of your decision to grace us with your presence."

"Yes, it is," Ringo agreed. "Paul, you had one job. How'd you mess up?"

Ringo and I were always joking around. I don't know how long it's been since we've actually had a conversation.

"I, uh, got distracted," Paul replied. I snorted.

Pattie gave me a questioning look. I glanced down at my hand that was untwined with Paul's. She then smiled, understanding what I meant.

"Laynee, come here for a minute," she said standing up.

I followed her out of the room.

"When did that happen?" She asked, referring to me and Paul.

"Like, a few minutes ago."

"So you've made up your mind?"

"Yeah. I guess so."


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: So sorry about the wait. I've been out of town and with no Internet the past few days, so I've not been able to post yet. But here is the next chapter, so let me know what you think! Enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

It'd been almost a week since I'd started dating Paul (and seen John- or Valerie, but I didn't like thinking about her.) I'd gone out to pick up a few things from the store. Paul was with me since they had time off.

George was out with Pattie, so I wasn't expecting anybody to be at the house when I got there. Well, I wasn't expecting anybody, so you can guess my surprise when I walked in the door and saw John sitting on the sofa.

I stopped dead in my tracks, just staring at him.

"What's wrong?" Paul asked me, but when he saw John he understood.

"What are you doing here?" I asked John.

Paul took the bags I had in my hand and went to put them up.

"I can't come over anymore?" He laughed.

"Well I figured you had someone else who just has to have your attention every damn minute." I growled. I didn't really want to deal with John at the moment. I was having such a nice day.

"If you're talking about Valerie," he glared at me, seeing me cringe when he said the name. "She left."

"What?" I asked, not fully comprehending what he'd said.

"She left me," he said again.

"She left you? Ha! Why?" I asked. Her leaving him was a likely story.

"Dunno. Found someone else I guess," he shrugged.

"So you find it ok to show up here?" I scoffed.

"Look, I'm here to apologise," he said, standing up.

What was taking Paul so long?

"You decided to that now?" I asked, still not moving from the spot I originally stopped.

"I've been trying!" He exclaimed, taking a step closer.

"John, no," I said, taking a step back.

Finally Paul walked back in.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"John was just leaving, I believe," I said, motioning John towards the door.

"Laynee," he said. I shook my head.

He didn't say anything else as he walked out the door.

* * *

The next few months went by with no trouble. I got the entire nursery set up in my room, and if I do say so myself it looked pretty darn good. Luckily I had Paul's help putting up everything else and setting it up.

I found it kind of funny that mine and Paul's relationship didn't change much from what it was before we started dating. There was just more kissing and holding hands...

Before I knew it was July. That meant that in just a few days A Hard Day's Night was premiering, and the Beatles decided to do some promotional concerts. That meant they'd be going off for a few days, leaving me home all by myself- a little over 7 months pregnant... Which means a lot more time has passed than I thought...

July 10 came by a lot quicker than I wanted it to. The boys had to leave early that morning. Much earlier than I ever wanted to get up. I would be extremely grumpy if I had to get up then.

Paul had made it a habit to stop by each morning and give me a kiss before heading out to do whatever he had to do that day.

It was early on the morning of 10 July, and I was snuggled up in the warmth of my bed. As usual, I was awakened with a kiss, but this one wasn't usual. This kiss was more forceful and emotional.

"Paul?" I muttered, opening my eyes.

The person kneeling next to my bed was not my boyfriend, Paul McCartney. Instead it was the last person I'd ever really wanted to talk to, and I'd been doing so well avoiding him.

"What the hell are you doing, John?" I demanded, pulling farther away from him and sitting up.

"Shhh, don't make so much noise," he whispered.

"Fine then, what the hell are you doing?" I whispered loudly.

"Laynee," he said, looking at me. "I've been trying to talk to you for God-knows how long, and I'm gonna do it sooner or later."

"And you chose now as the best time?" I asked, not moving from my sitting-up position. He still ended up closer to me, sitting beside me on the bed.

"Laynee, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I wasn't thinking. I didn't realise how much I was hurting you."

"John," I stopped him. "You're just saying that because you know it's what I want to hear. You don't mean half of what you say."

"Don't even say that," he nearly growled. "I've had plenty of time to think about it. Plenty of time to think about how dumb I was to bring Valerie around. Plenty of time to see you happy with someone else. Plenty of time to realise my mistake, so don't tell me I'm just saying this." He grabbed my hand before I could protest. He looked me right in the eyes. The quick-disappearing moon was shining through the window onto his face. "Laynee Harrison, I love you."

I sat there for a minute, not sure of what to say.

"John..."

He stood up before I could say anything else. "I better go before George or Paul or someone comes in."

I couldn't say anything else before he walked out of the room.

Dammit, John Lennon, why did you have to come and do this now?

I laid back down and pretended to be asleep. Paul came in shortly after to say his goodbyes. He gave me a quick kiss.

"Goodbye Laynee," he said. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." I said, seeming a bit absentminded, but I was still thinking about what John'd just come in here and said.

"Are you ok?" He asked me, noticing my lack of awareness.

"Yeah, just thinking," I replied.

"I love you," Paul said, kissing me again.

"I love you too."

Did I? Did I really love Paul like he loved me? Or was he just there as a distraction, keeping my mind off of somebody else. Someone I'd given up on...

"I'll see you again in a few weeks. I'll write you." He kissed me again and then left.

I still lay there, looking up at the ceiling. Ringo came in and jokingly told me not to have my baby without them. I told him he shouldn't worry, since I had about 2 more months, and I'd still neglected the naming process.

George also came in.

"Are you gonna be alright?" He asked.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me," I assured him.

"Alright, well if you need anything Pattie will be over as soon as you call her."

"Thanks," I said.

"Well, see ya later," he said, giving me a hug then leaving.

I listened to all of them pull out of the driveway, leaving me alone with my unborn child and my thoughts.


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N: Well, here is chapter 17. It's... Different, I guess you could say... Maybe you could say I was in a rather bitter mood when I wrote it, but nonetheless here it is. The next chapter may take a while because I have to kind of write it... Anyway, enjoy, or not, I guess.**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

One, two, three, four, five days passed and still no word from anybody. I hadn't gotten as much as a phone call or a letter from anybody- although Paul had promised he'd write, I hadn't seen Pattie any time soon because she'd been extremely busy with something, but I didn't care enough to know what.

I was sitting on the sofa staring at a blank television screen. I'd accomplished making the house spotless, there was nothing to watch on the telly, and I could think of nothing better to do, so I just stared at the blank screen. I was too lazy to get out my guitar, too. I never realised how boring it was to be home alone with nothing or nobody to look forward to.

I don't know how much time passed with me just staring into nothingness. Unexpectedly, there was a knock on the door. I got up and cautiously opened the door, wondering who in the world it could be?

The face- well faces- that I saw when I opened the door shocked me more than I bet anything ever could.

"Oh good! I was hoping you'd stayed!" A tall blonde with a heavy American accent spoke.

"W-what are you doing here?" I asked her and her male companion.

"My, my, look at how you've... Changed. You've... Grown, and you sound so much different!" She completely ignored my question and let herself into the house, going in and sitting on the sofa.

"Stella, Mark, what are you doing here?" I asked again.

Sure, these people were my 'siblings', but I did not want to see them. They both hated me more than anything else, and Mark had serious anger problems, and he wasn't afraid to hit a girl. I knew that first hand.

"Why are you here?" I demanded after they ignored me.

"We're here to tell you that Mother has decided to let you come home," Stella finally said.

"I am home," I told her.

"No, I mean back in America. She said you can have your baby there and everything. She said she misses you."

"No, she misses the money I was bringing in," I said. "I'm home, and I'm not leaving."

"What's so good about here?" Stella asked, as if living with her and her brother was a good thing.

"People actually care about me here."

She didn't say anything at first.. She just pursed her lips, knowing it was true. After a minute she finally spoke up.

"Now, I don't know what you mean by that."

"If you actually cared about me you wouldn't have dumped me 12 miles from the house because your boyfriend dumped you," I snapped.

"He left me for you!" She exclaimed, as if that was a legit excuse to dump anybody 12 miles from home and drive off, leaving them for the world.

"I've never even seen him! How is this my fault?"

"Oh, you've seen him," she said.

"No. I haven't. He's never set foot in my presence. I'm not stupid. I know who I've seen."

"Oh, no. You've seen him. You just didn't know it was him," she said, insisting I've seen her ex boyfriend.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

She didn't say anything. She just looked at me then to my stomach.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, angry this time. If she was saying what I thought she was saying I was seriously thinking about killing her.

"Why do you think I dropped you off twelve miles out?" She almost laughed. "He said he wanted you, not me, so I told him to have you if he wanted. He did, obviously."

"You're telling me this-" I motioned to my stomach, "is your fault?"

"Well... Yeah." I held back the urge to attack her at that moment.

"Do you know the absolute shit I've gone through- thanks to you?" I asked.

"Well you deserved it," she said as if I was still in the wrong.

"I'm guessing Mark is here to make sure I don't kill you," I stated. They both agreed because they knew sooner or later I was going to snap. She wonders why I don't like her.

I was able to stand a few more comments and rude words from her before I couldn't take it any more. I was standing up to ask them, very pointedly, to leave. I don't know exactly what happened. I guess Mark took my standing as a threatening gesture, and he will do anything for his dear little brat of a sister, so he jumps up as soon as I do. I don't really remember what happened after that. He pushed back, causing me to stumble back into the television. Both myself and the T.V. Hit the floor.

I mentioned before that Mark had a bad temper and wasn't afraid to hit a girl. I forgot to mention that with him, when he started he didn't stop until he was satisfied. Something in his mind snaps when he inflicts violence upon people, and it makes him happy. Stella never tried to stop him when he started. She was too afraid to fall victim to his cruelty.

Like I said, he pushed me into the television, but that wasn't good enough for him. He first kicked me in my head, and that's all I know. Everything went black after that.

* * *

(Pattie's P.O.V)

I felt bad for not checking on Laynee sooner, but I could never get the time. Finally, I was free of all other obligations and was headed over to see her. Five days. That's all. That's not too long a time for her to be alone.

When I got to the house the sight I saw wasn't a pretty one. The door was wide open, and when I walked inside I saw Laynee lying on the ground, battered and bleeding. Beside her was a note that read: "Well she deserved it. Tell her she can still come home if she wants to- Stella and Mark."

Who was Stella and Mark?

"Laynee..." I said, kneeling beside her and shaking her lightly. There was no response.

"Laynee!" I said again.

Still no response. I began to freak out. I jumped up and called an ambulance to come and get her and take her to the hospital. I then called the police about what happened. They weren't much help since I didn't know any more that I did. Finally I called one more person.

I dialled the number, hoping I had the right one. It rang once, twice, a third time then someone picked up.

"George?" I asked.

"No, it's Ringo, who is this?"

"Pattie, can I speak to George?" I asked frantically.

"What's wrong?"

"Just let me speak to George, please."

"Alright." Ringo went to find George, and George soon picked up the phone.

"What's the matter, Pattie?"

"Laynee. She's headed to the hospital now. I don't know what happened. I just found her lying on the ground next to the broken telly."

"What? I gotta go. I'll see you soon." He hung up the phone just as the ambulance pulled up.


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N: Well, this chapter came out sooner than I expected, but with some urging from a couple of people I was able to write this one, but the next few may take a day or two (especially with Easter being tomorrow and me starting school again Monday) but new chapters will be out ASAP. Anyway, you might not care about why the chapters may take so long, so here is the story. Enjoy.**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

The next thing I recall was sound. I didn't open my eyes, I just listened, but I heard a radio playing nearby.

"Fans are outraged to hear that the Beatles have canceled all upcoming press conferences and public appearances. The reason is still unknown." The voice on the radio said.

Canceled? Why would they cancel? That was something important for them.

"Reasons unknown," a very familiar voice said. "Yeah, well we know the reasons." This voice sounded just like Paul, and sounded like he was arguing with the radio.

My eyes snapped open and I looked around. The walls were an off-white colour, there was a large wooden door with a big glass window in the middle, reinforced with thing silver wires. Close by was a small noisy machine, and a stand with and I.V bag that connected to my arm. On the far side of the room I heard voices, and they all sounded familiar. I tried to sit up, but it hurt too badly and I just fell back with a groan.

"Laynee!" All of the voices exclaimed at once, rushing over to the bedside. It was the four mop-topped boys I loved so much.

"Laynee," Paul said again, leaning down and kissing me. "Are you alright?"

"I don't rightly know," I replied.

I noticed John glaring at Paul. I almost wondered why, but then I remember, and sighed. Life was just too complicated.

"What even happened?" I asked.

"We were going to ask you the same question," George said.

"What are you all doing here then?" I asked, still not sure as to why I was here either.

"Well, when you get a call from your girlfriend saying your cousin is in the hospital, you don't expect us to come running?" George asked in a sort of joking manner, trying to lighten the mood.

"What did Pattie say happened?" I wanted to know why the hell I was hooked up to some tube thing in a damn hospital.

George explained, best he could, what Pattie had told him. He even mentioned a note left by Mark and Stella... Mark and Stella?

"Who are Mark and Stella?" Paul asked.

I'd forgotten about John Paul and Ringo being there. They were all so quiet when George was talking.

"They're my step-brother and sister," I said. When they all gave me a questioning look I continued.

"My dad died a few years ago. It wasn't long after his passing that my mum got remarried- to Stella and Mark's father," I explained. "They all hated me, even my mother after a while. I don't see why they came..." I began to remember what happened. Not all of it, but pieces.

"Came? Came when? Where?" George asked.

"They came by your house. Five days after you all left," I said.

"And that was the day Pattie called," Ringo said, putting the pieces together.

"What were they doing there?" George asked.

"They were telling me I could go back with them. Mum wanted me to come back to have my baby." When I said that everybody looked at each other as if I was missing something. I didn't know I was quite literally missing something.

"Laynee..." George said slowly. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Tired. Why?" I asked, growing worried.

"I was just, uh, wondering..." He said, trying to avoid something he didn't want to say.

"What's happened? What's wrong with me?" I asked, starting to panic.

"Laynee... You've, uh, lost the baby..." He said.

It took a moment for what he said to sink in, but when it did it hit hard.

"What? No!" I pulled back the sheet that was covering me up to see if what he said was true. It was.

I screamed a loud, hurt, angry scream.

"How?" I sobbed. "How did it happen?!" I was going hysterical.

None of them were given a chance to answer. As soon as I screamed a nurse came in, fussing at the four boys.

"Now I told you to tell me when she woke up," the old lady said. "And I also told you not to say anything to her. You don't need her getting upset. Now go." She shooed them out of the room.

"No!" I cried. I didn't want them to go. I needed them there. I needed to talk to them!

The old nurse just shook her head at me. She put something else in the I.V. Bag connected to my arm, and it wasn't long before I grew tired and cried myself to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: New chapter- here it is. Sorry it took so long. And don't hate me for it. Brighter chapters will be out soon... I just have to write them. Anyway, enjoy enjoy enjoy.**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

The next few days I felt lonelier than I had in a long time. Even before when I'd been alone I'd never really felt lonely. I never was. You can't be lonely when you're carrying around a baby. But now, there was nothing. Nobody. The nurse had gotten cross with George Paul John and Ringo the other day, so they only came in every so often. Well it seemed like every so often, but it really hadn't been that long. Just a few days, but it was horrible.

No only did I feel lonely I felt clueless. The last bit of information was what George told me that day. The doctor won't say anything, and since George and I are actually related they tell him. Sadly, they wouldn't let him see me long enough to say anything, and any time he'd try to say something the nurse would just shoo him out again. Any conversation besides the normal "hey, how ya doin'" conversation and the nurse would shoo them out. The only other thing I'd hear from any of them was the occasional "I love you" from Paul. (I say occasional because I only saw him every so often.)

They'd all come in and out throughout the day (when that pesky nurse would feel like standing there, I guess) but when they weren't there I had nothing to do. The radio was eventually taken out of the room.

"Someone more important needs it," the man who came in and took it explained.

Thanks. Now I'm not important.

The only other contact I had with anybody was when the doctor came in to give me more medicine or check something, which was every couple of hours or so. Sadly, all I was left with was my thoughts, and thoughts can be dangerous.

In the time I'd spent thinking, mostly the morning hours before I get to see anybody, I'd come to a few conclusions. I have been nothing but a waste of time, energy, and money. I've done absolutely nothing for anybody since I moved in with George. I just wasted their time and energy worrying about me so much. If I wouldn't have come I wouldn't have bothered with Paul or John, and at this moment I don't feel like I can keep either one of them happy. I feel useless- and unimportant, thanks to that nice old man earlier. And I was constantly wasting George's money. I didn't have a job, so I was using what little bit of money he got himself. And he spent that money on the crib and everything. All a waste. I also ruined their touring. If I wouldn't have been so stupid and let Mark and Stella stay I wouldn't have be here in the first place, and neither would they.

* * *

(John's P.O.V)

We were all sitting in our own special waiting room, waiting for the grouch of a nurse to come and choose who could see Laynee. I say special waiting room because it wasn't really a waiting room at all. It was another hospital room, but we were using it because there were way too many people in the actual waiting room. We didn't need to be bombarded with people while waiting to see Laynee, so the hospital was kind enough to let us use another room. That may be the only nice thing they've done.

We'd all been in this room for a couple of days- or at least I think it was a couple of days. I'd sorta lost track. All of us had been there the entire time- except Ringo. He'd gone out to see Maureen- if he'd gotten out at all. Ever since one person saw us going in the hospital we hadn't been able to go out because of all the crazy girls waiting for us. It was really frustrating. As was the fact that Laynee was laying in a hospital bed and we weren't allowed to go and see her but for a few minutes at a time.

I looked down at my watch. The nurse should be coming any minute to come and get one of us. Why just one? I don't know, but it was equally frustrating. The door finally opened, but the person who stepped in wasn't the grouchy old nurse that it usually was. It was a much younger girl. She was probably about Paul or George's age.

"Paul, John, you can come on back now if you want, she said.

"Both of us, eh, and it's not even a special occasion," I said as I stood up and followed her out of the room- Paul followed suit.

The familiar walk to Laynee's room was a silent one. The nurse would occasionally look back at us, I don't know why. Maybe to make sure we were still following. We made it to the room, but we were stopped before we went in.

"One at a time," she told me as she ushered Paul into the room and followed, shutting the door in my face.

I stood outside the door, looking through the window that was there. The nurse was standing towards the foot of the bed, watching Laynee and Paul. After a couple of minutes the nurse said something, maybe a time warning or something. Paul quickly kissed Laynee, and a pang of jealously ran through my body.

The door opener again and the nurse told me I could go in. I expected the nurse to stay there with my like she did Paul, but instead she stayed out in the hallway with Paul. It was odd, but I didn't really think twice about it.

"Hey Laynee," I said, sitting down in the chair beside the bed. "How ya holdin' up?"

She sighed as she moved to sit up.

"Fine, I guess. Bored to death, really."

"What happened to that old radio in here?" I asked looking around. A radio could keep you entertained for hours.

"Someone 'more important' needed it." She rolled her eyes.

"Well it must have been the Queen of England or something because there is nobody more important than you," I told her, and it was true. At least it was for me.

She smiled, only slightly, but it was a smile. She looked like she hadn't smiled in forever.

Despite the cuts and bruises she was still beautiful. She always was and always would be.

I couldn't help myself. I went to kiss her but she stopped me.

"John, you can't keep doing that!" She said.

"Why? There's nobody here!"I protested.

"Yeah, I know, but there are two people standing outside that door, and one of them happens to be my boyfriend.

I sighed and sat back in the chair. I couldn't kiss her, so I contended to just watch her. She didn't seem to notice. She was too busy watching whatever was going on outside the window. After a while- and it was a good long while, this visit was a lot longer than usual- Laynee spoke again.

"Do you know that nurse's name?" She asked, staring fixedly at the nurse outside.

"Uh, I think the name badge said Melissa something-or-other."

"Great," she mumbled. "Melissa."

"Who's Melissa?" I asked, not following her train of thought.

"Paul's little puppy dog." She explained. "The girl who wouldn't leave him alone, still won't. Even threatened my life once or twice."

"Oh" was all I could say. Now that Laynee mentioned it, the girl did look familiar...

The silence resumed, and I continued to do what I was doing before- watching her. I was lost in thought, or maybe a daydream, when Laynee sat up even straighter and looked closer at the door's window. Then, with a small squeak like a dog who's tail got stepped on, she began to cry. I turned to see what had set her off. There, clear as day through that small rectangular window, you could see Paul and the nurse Melissa snogging. I say snogging because that's what it was. There was no way Paul could get away with 'she kissed me, I couldn't help it' because by now he looked very willing.

"What's wrong with me, John" Laynee cried. It seemed as if she'd been holding everything for so long, and she finally snapped. "What am I doing wrong? Am I not pretty enough?" She sobbed. "Am I not smart enough? Am I just too stupid to do anything right?" Sob. "What's wrong with me?" She asked again, in a soft whimpering voice.

"Laynee, there is nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. Paul is the one there is something wrong with," I told her, trying me best to calm her down.

"It's not just Paul!" She exclaimed. "It's every damn thing I've gone through!"

She began to cry harder, almost hysterically, and I began to freak out a bit. I'm not used to people crying, an I didn't know what to do. This kind of reminded me of that day in the bathroom with her, she'd began to cry and I...

I quickly leaned in and pressed my lips against hers, and that almost instantly calmed her down, like it had before. She wasn't resisting me like I almost thought she would, she was actually kissing me back.

"Better?" I asked her when she pulled back.

"I needed that," she sniffled, then she pulled me back closer and kissed me again.

"John!" A voice from behind me exclaimed.

I turned to see who it was- Paul. Him and Melissa had obviously finished what they were doing, and they'd come back into the room, I'm guessing to tell me my time was up.

"What the hell are you doing!?" He exclaimed.

"Obviously something you're doing with someone else," I snapped.

The look on his face showed that he didn't think we'd seen them. It was a look of almost horror.

"Laynee..." He said. "I love you."

"Just go," she said, pointing towards the door as she began to cry again.

He did, and I didn't know where he went. With one last glance at Laynee I left too, since the nurse made me.


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: Chapter 20? Woah, I really didn't expect to write this much, but hey, the story will continue as long as I have ideas. Here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy, and sorry for the wait!**_

(Paul's P.O.V)

What the hell did I just do? I didn't mean to- I honestly didn't. I should have left as soon as I left Laynee's room, but I didn't. The nurse - Melissa - said she needed to talk to me. I didn't realise who it was -if I would have I would have left - until I'd agreed to stay and talk to her. I still should have left. I didn't. Dumb move, Paul. Dumb move.  
Melissa was just talking at first. Talking about how much she loved me and how long it's been since she started waiting for me. I couldn't help but think to myself that it was all a waste of her time. I explained to her that I was dating Laynee and I wasn't really planning on changing that any time soon- boy, was I in for a surprise, huh. She then tried to convince me Laynee wasn't worth my time.  
"She talks in her sleep!" She exclaimed. "I'm sometimes in there when she does!"  
"So?" I asked. So what if Laynee talked in her sleep, that wouldn't bother me.  
"Do you know what she says in her sleep? Who she's always calling for?" She demanded.  
"Who?" I asked, just to satisfy her.  
"John. Laynee calls for John in her sleep, not you. I'm there, I hear her!"  
I wasn't sure if I should believe Melissa or not, but part of me did, and that part of me grew very jealous.  
"She isn't worthy of you!" Melissa exclaimed as she suddenly kissed me.  
The sensible part of me tried to push her away but the other part of me, the part that had grown jealous of what Melissa had said, refused, and instead I ended up kissing her back instead. And it ended up being some pretty heavy kissing. What the hell was I thinking.  
Abruptly, Melissa pulled back, a more than satisfied grin on her face. She was looking in the window to Laynee's room. I couldn't see in from where I was standing, but Melissa soon opened the door, revealing John kissing Laynee.  
"John! What the hell are you doing?" I yelled. I still tried to believe that Melissa had been lying. Trying my best.  
"Obviously something you're doing with someone else," he said as he turned to look at me.  
Shit. They saw that? Of course they saw that. There was that stupid window there. I was just to stupid to realise that. Shit.  
"Laynee..." I looked at her, trying to think of something to say. The pain in her eyes made it hard. "I love you" was all I could manage. It wasn't good enough.  
"Just go!" She told me as she showed me the door.  
I did go. I wasn't sure where exactly I was going, but I was going.

* * *

(George's P.O.V)  
To say I was angry may have been an understatement. I was furious. First off at Paul. What was going through his thick skull, and why was he doing it in front of Laynee. She didn't need the hurt or frustration right now. She was still upset over the loss of her baby. And Paul goes and- ugh! I felt like strangling him, and I'd probably get close to it if I ran into him.  
I was headed to Laynee's room. She was upset, and I'm not having her upset. The doctors and nurses must have seen the look in my eyes as I passed because not a single one of them tried to stop me. They all looked too scared.  
I calmed myself down a bit when I reached Laynee's room. I opened the door slowly. Laynee was sitting on the bed, the bed she'd hardly moved from for almost a week, eyes puffy and tear stains on her cheeks. When she saw me she held out her arms, asking for a hug. A quietly walked over and gave her the hug, a comfort she desperately needed.  
"Don't leave me all alone," she whispered. "Don't leave me like they both did."  
"I'm not planning it," I told her.  
She didn't have to specify what she meant, I already knew. That was another reason I was angry. John left her, all alone with that horrid nurse. Sure, she told him to leave, but sometimes you have to ignore the rules- like I just did as I stormed in here. John could have stayed if he really wanted to, but I'm not sure he actually wanted to. And that made me mad. He was going to lead Laynee on like he always does then just drop her off as if it was nothing. You don't do that. Especially not to Laynee.  
"I want to go home," Laynee whimpered as she began to cry again, this time into my shoulder, soaking my shirt, but that didn't matter.  
"I know. You will be going home. Soon."  
And she was. As soon as Pattie got here -I'd called her right before I came to Laynee's room- I was going to find somebody to get Laynee out of this hell hole.  
I lifted her head up, wiped a tear away and asked "What really happened, Laynee?"  
She sat there for a second then finally spoke: "Where's Pattie?"  
Pattie. Of course. Laynee wanted to talk to Pattie because Pattie was able to understand her. They were both girls, so, naturally, Laynee would feel more comfortable talking to her.  
"Soon," I said, looking down at my watch. "Any minute now, actually."  
And I was right. Not too long after I'd said that Pattie opened up the door.  
"I do what I want, thank you!" She called over her shoulder to someone down the hallway.  
"Good. You're here!" I exclaimed, giving her a quick kiss.  
"I would have been here sooner but I ran in to Paul out there."  
"What did he say?" Laynee asked eagerly. She looked slightly hopeful about something. Why, Laynee? Why?  
"Not much, but I didn't really give him much time to talk. I was mostly yelling at him," Pattie admitted with a small smile. Laynee's face fell a bit.  
"Was that who you were just talking to?" I asked.  
"No. I don't know who that was. I guess they work here or something."  
And that is why I love her, I smiled to myself.  
"Now, go," Pattie pecked my cheek. "I need to talk to Laynee."  
"Right," I said as I left the room. I needed to go talk to some people anyway.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Finally Pattie was here. I could actually talk to her. I wasn't about to talk to George. He'd flip out. Especially at the part where I kissed John, and not the other way around. He still didn't really like John, and now Paul was on his bad side too. Great.  
"So you saw Paul out there?" I asked. Something inside me wanted Paul back and I wasn't sure why.  
"Yeah," Pattie nodded. "I'm worried he's still out there. I'd hate to see what's gonna happen to him when Paul gets ahold of him."  
That was more than true. George may not seem like it, but if you get him angry enough he is really angry. The few people to get him like that learned quickly not to do it again. And it took a lot to finally get him to that point. He was there now.  
"Now," Pattie said, sitting down beside the bed. "I need to know what exactly happened. George only knows what he understood from John, I didn't give Paul a chance to explain himself, and I haven't seen John myself."  
I sighed and began to recount what had happened.  
Paul came into the room, accompanied by someone new, a new nurse. This nurse was younger and a lot more familiar, but I wasn't sure why. Paul talked like he normally did, plans for when I got out of the hospital and the occasional silly story to cheer me up and make me smile. He was slightly put down that I wasn't really smiling.  
The nurse said it was time for him to go, so he gave me a kiss, told me he loved me, and they left; but not before the nurse turned and gave me an evil glare.  
Unexpectedly, John came in. I wasn't expecting anyone else after Paul and the nurse left- why she didn't stay in the room was beyond me. They didn't go far, just outside that door. I could see them through the little widow. John talked a bit, tried to kiss me (I stopped him, of course, reminding him my boyfriend was just outside a door- not like he was paying attention though.) we then sat in silence. I was watching Paul and that nurse talk- they looked like they were arguing.  
I asked John her name, and when he said Melissa it dawned on me why she looked familiar. Melissa, the crazy girl who was in love with Paul. Great.  
I once again watched them talk (argue.) Suddenly Melissa is kissing Paul, and at first he starts to resist, but then he kisses her back, and that kills me. I went hysterical, crying and mumbling about everything that was wrong with me.  
After a little while of my pained rambling (growing worse each time I saw Paul and Melissa) John did the only thing he knew how to do to calm me down- he kissed me. It felt nice. When his lips touched mine it was almost like electricity jolting through my body and my heart began to flutter. I pulled back to catch my breath.  
"Better?" He asked me.  
"I needed that," I admitted, and I did.  
And I wanted that. I pulled his face back closer to mine and I kissed him again, experiencing the same thing as before. I'd momentarily forgotten everything else.  
But in comes Paul, yelling, ruining the moment, and bringing back the tears as he brought back the memory of what he was just doing.  
He'd told me he loved me, again, but this time I couldn't believe it. I couldn't. Not after what he just did. (But was I no different?) I told him to go, and he did. So did John, leaving me alone with Melissa who smiled wickedly at me.  
"That was your boyfriend wasn't it? I'm so sorry." She wasn't sorry at all.  
"Too bad he doesn't really love you," she sneered. "He just wants you to think that. It's easier to get a tramp like you in bed if you believe they really love you."  
Then she left, leaving the words stinging my heart and the years stinging my eyes.  
"You poor, poor child," Pattie said, patting my hand after I finished my story.  
I never realised that Pattie wasn't much older than me. Not much older than me at all.  
"So it's John now, huh?" She asked me.  
"I don't even know. Part of me wants it to be, but a small part still wants it to be Paul," I told her.  
All she could do was shake her head. There was no time for any other kind of response. There was a loud commotion somewhere down the hallway, then outside.  
Pattie jumped up and ran down the hall to see what had happened. She came back shortly after carrying my clothes.  
"That was George," she said, tossing me my clothes. "Change into that, doctor says you're fine, you can go." She explained as I began to change out of the gown I was wearing.  
"And we need to go. Quickly."  
Oh George. What have you done?


	21. Chapter 21

**_A/N: Here is chapter 21! Sorry for the wait. I've been reading this weird Chick Lit. book about some helpless boy who couldn't find a prom date (it wasn't even worth reading but I wanted to know what happened so I read it all!) and it's been distracting me. But I'm through with that book (he went to prom with a dudes grandma! What?) so I was able to write this chapter. (Now I'm starting a new book! Not Chick Lit. though. That's not my genre. At all... Sorry about me talking about reading. Something happened and now I want to read again (I hadn't finished a single book in 2 years, And I'm now on my 3rd one this week. Woo hoo!) Anyway, you don't care about that... Sorry. What you do care about is Ringo! Yes. And there is a lot more Ringo in this chapter (well because the entire chapter is written in his P.O.V...) Anyway, sorry again. Useless rambling. Enjoy the chapter!_**

(Ringo's P.O.V)  
I didn't think I'd been gone that long. I felt rather useless just sitting at the hospital- we weren't all going to get to see Laynee any time soon. Besides, I felt like I just crowded the place. George is her cousin, he had reason to stay. Paul- her boyfriend. Yet another reason to stay. And John, he's just helplessly in love with her- although he tries his best to deny it (I'm surprised Paul hasn't noticed!) Me? She's a friend. Everyone else had some kind of actual love for her, whether it be brotherly or lover-ly (if that's a word and makes sense.)  
Don't get me wrong, Laynee and I are like siblings most the time, but it just felt a bit awkward around those three. I needed to get out a bit, see my girlfriend. I'm sure Laynee wouldn't mind. (Of course, I was a bit worried I was going to miss out on something.)  
When I finally got out of the hospital (finally, as in it took me a good long while before I could successfully sneak out without being caught by psycho fans) I took Maureen out. It'd been a while since we'd been out, and I felt kind of bad just sitting in that waiting room not doing anything. After a while of eating and talking Maureen said that she wanted to go see Laynee. I figured it was worth a try. She wasn't a Beatle, so I doubt the would deny her admittance.  
When we got back to the hospital I noticed there was a lack of screaming girls- in fact, there were no screaming girls. They'd all disappeared. Maureen and I went inside and asked the man at the desk if we could go see Laynee.  
"Laynee who?" He asked, looking up from his glasses.  
"How many Laynee's do you have?" I muttered. "Laynee Harrison."  
He looked through his files for a brief moment.  
"I'm sorry," he said. "She checked out a short while ago. I'm guessing she went back home."  
And that was all he said. Leaving no time for response he buried his face in his paperwork rather quickly.  
Checked out? I wasn't expecting her to go home, but a good thing she did, I guess.  
Maureen and I headed over to George's house. Everyone was sure to be in a good mood since Laynee was fine... Boy was I wrong. How can everybody be happy when nobody was there- except for Laynee. She sat on the sofa, her knees pulled up to her chest in a thoughtful-worried kind of way. She was thinking about something and frowning as she did so.  
"Well, aren't we enjoying our time out of the hospital?" I said sarcastically.  
All she did was look up at me and say: "Oh, hi Ringo. Hi Maureen." Then she slumped back into her dazed thinking. Maureen and I sat down beside her.  
"What's wrong, Laynee?" Maureen asked.  
Oh yeah, something wrong. That'd make sense. Laynee usually didn't act like this.  
"Oh, y'know, just George... And Paul... And John," she sighed.  
With a few more questions from Maureen, Laynee was soon briefly explaining what had happened when I left.  
"All the fun after I leave, huh? Darn." I was trying to get her to smile. I did. Sorta.  
I was about to ask what George did, but I didn't have the chance. The front door soon opened and in walked Pattie, followed by a sullen George. I noticed there was a small scratch on George's face, and he looked a bit bruised.  
"Well," Pattie said when she saw everyone. "It's not everyday you have to go pick up your boyfriend who was 'escorted' to the police department with assault charges."  
She glared in his direction. He standing on the other side of the room, not saying a word.  
"Three to be exact!" Pattie announced. "Might have been four if Paul and John didn't step in and stop you." She stopped, once again expecting him to say something. He said nothing. "You're psycho sometimes." She concluded.  
Now Laynee spoke up again.  
"I'm sorry," she said, weakly and quietly.  
"What?"  
"This is all my fault. I'm sorry," Laynee said again.  
"How is this your fault, hon, it was George who snapped that twig if a brain he has." Pattie said, placing a comforting hand on Laynee's shoulder. "Or you can blame it on Paul, but it's not your fault."  
"Yes it is!" Laynee insisted. "George wouldn't have beat the shit out of John and Paul if _I_ wouldn't have seen Paul sucking face with some other girl. Paul wouldn't have been in that situation if _I _hadn't been in the hospital. _I _wouldn't have been in the hospital if _I_ wasn't so stupid as to make Mark mad. Mark wouldn't have gotten angry if _I_ hadn't let them in the house. They wouldn't have come by the house here if _I_ hadn't been there. _I_ wouldn't have been there if _I _hadn't been kicked out by my mother. _I_ wouldn't have been kicked out if _I_ hadn't gotten pregnant. And _I_ wouldn't have gotten pregnant if _I_ hadn't been so damn stupid!" She finished her speech and began to cry.  
"Laynee-" George started to say something but Pattie cut him off.  
"Laynee, you can't blame yourself for all of this."  
"But it is my fault! If I would have just stayed in America none of you would have to deal with anything. I've been absolutely useless while I've been here!"  
This time it was Maureen who spoke up. "Laynee, I don't know what the boys would have done without you! You give them something to look forward to each day. You're not useless, trust me."  
After a quick and silent conversation with Pattie, Maureen and Pattie pulled Laynee out of the room, I guess to talk to her.  
After much curious questioning on my part (who wouldn't be curious?) I finally got out of George what happened-y'know, why he was 'escorted' by the police. Turns out that he went to the front desk to request Laynee be released. She was fine, he was told so, so he wanted her released. The man behind the counter refused. The same thing happened about three times (the man saying no, I mean) and that frustrated George more than he needed to be- obviously. Unfortunately, Paul decides to walk past the desk at that moment- with another girl. They were just talking or whatever, but just the sight of Paul set him off. He practically attacked Paul, but it was a short lived attack because 'from what seemed like nowhere' John shows up. Bad idea. John likewise got a piece of George's rage. As did one of the doctors who tried to stop George's infuriated attack. Then George saw Melissa- the reason of all the mess, and he was about to spring on her too - he was like a wild animal, or that's what he'd said - but John and Paul had to use any means possible to hold him back. (Dear ol' Georgie boy was stronger than he seemed, and strength and anger don't go too well together.)  
Eventually the police came and took George away (along with Paul and John, but they were a safe distance away from George. There were a lot of people outside, and all of them followed the police and the three Beatles. I'm positive there was press. Woo. I can see now some kind of report about the Beatles in jail or something.  
Well, that's the story George told me, at least. I'm pretty sure it's true though. George wouldn't joke about something that made both Laynee and Pattie upset. I'm sure of it.  
We stayed in silence the res of the time as we waited for the girls to come back into the room. I was glad I left when I did. Sometimes, just sometimes, missing out on things wasn't bad.


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N: I know what you're thinking: two chapters two days in a row? Yes, I felt I needed to write and post another chapter before this weekend when I won't be able to access any Internet. This chapter isn't great, but oh well. Enjoy anyway!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

"Laynee, you're not useless." Sure.  
"None of this is your fault." Of course it is.  
"You're just as important as anybody else." No I'm not. They're Beatles. Pattie's a model...  
"Are you even listening?" Pattie snapped.  
"Yeah," I said.  
I was. I wasn't responding, she wouldn't like my responses, but I was listening. I looked as if I weren't listening because I was staring intently at one of George's guitars. Pattie and Maureen pulled me into George's music room to talk to me. Better than the usual meeting place- the kitchen. The sight of the guitars calmed me a bit. A bit, I say. Not much. At all.  
"What've we been saying then?" Pattie demanded.  
"You said I wasn't useless. Ha. Maureen told me this wasn't my fault. It is. You said I'm just important as anyone else. I'm not. Then you asked if I was listening. I am," I replied, still staring at the guitar. I wasn't looking at it, just trying to focus my attention elsewhere.  
"Please explain how this is all your fault," Maureen said kindly.  
"Yeah, and that reason you used earlier doesn't count." Pattie was still a bit irked at George. I could tell.  
"I- uh," I was trying to think of a reason, but she shot down the words before I'd said them (again.)  
"I... I-if I wouldn't have kissed John then he wouldn't have been in 'the path of George's fury.'" I finally said.  
"Now you're just trying to find reasons to blame yourself," Pattie said. "The blame for that falls on John- he kissed you first- and Paul, who told George. Not your fault. Next?"  
I shook my head, indicating I had nothing else to say at the time.  
"Good. Now are we good to leave this room now?" Pattie asked.  
"Sure," I said.  
I followed Pattie and Maureen out of the room. I was going to my room to change into something else besides the clothes I arrived at the hospital in. I was able to open the door and take a few steps in before I stopped and started crying. Staring at me from across the room was that crib and the rest of the nursery I'd put up. It sat there staring at me as if it were saying "Ha! You have no child! You never will! You're fault, though. I'm just another waste of George's money!"  
No baby. That's right. I'd spent almost eight months carrying around my child, and now there was nothing to show for it except a bunch of damn nursery equipment.  
I left my room as quick as I could. I rushed out of the house, stepping over the shattered television, before the sobs came. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I didn't want to be around anybody. They'd just ask questions. They wouldn't understand.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
Thankfully the crowds had been cleared away before I left the police station. I didn't want to have to okie my way through a bunch of girls just to get home. It was girls that landed me in the station in the first place. Mostly one girl, Melissa, but I don't think George was too happy seeing me with that other girl- whoever she was. I was just answering a question for her- either. Thanks to George I was going to have a nice black eye for a while, and a few scratches and bruises. John ended up with a bloody nose by the end of the scuffle.  
I walked back to my house as quick as possible. I didn't want anybody to see me. They'd be sure to talk about it. Paul McCartney with a black eye. The girls would go crazy and threaten to kill whoever did it. Then the story about what happened at the hospital would be released at some point. I knew it.  
Despite my efforts against it, my mind kept wandering to Laynee. Man, I'd really screwed up with her. She probably hates me now and never wants to see me again. Great. I didn't mean to do anything that would hurt her. But I did. I just wish she knew how much I really did love her.  
I didn't realise it had started raining until I was almost soaked. Luckily, it was long before I made it to my house. When I reached for the door knob it was unlocked. That was odd. I knew I left it locked when I left. I always did. Suddenly there was a small hope that Laynee might be sitting inside waiting to talk to me. She's the only person who knew where my spare key was.  
I quickly opened the door. When I went inside, the person there was the last person I'd want to see.  
"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked her. "How did you get into my house?"  
"I knew where you kept the spare. I've watched your 'girlfriend'- if you still want to call her that- come and go," Melissa smiled.  
"Why are you here?" I asked again.  
"I got off of work early, y'know, because your friend gave me quite a scare. I decided to come and see you since I think our time together was rudely interrupted."  
"No, I think you 'rudely interrupted' my relationship. Now get out!" I yelled.  
"Now, Paulie, no need to raise your voice. And you honestly thought your relationship was going to last with John around? Did you not see the way he was kissing her?"  
I was now trying to ignore what she was saying. Laynee and I would have been happy together if I hadn't screwed it up.  
"Yeah, and she saw me kissing you, which has caused all of the problems so far, so it's your fault." I said.  
"She saw you them," she smiled. "She's not here right now."  
She moved forward to kiss me again, but I stopped her.  
"Melissa, leave. I don't want you here. You've screwed everything up already. Just leave." I pointed to the door, and when I did there was a knock.  
"I best be leaving," Melissa said when she heard the knock.  
I went to open the door. I nearly choked on air when I saw who it was- Laynee, drenched to the bone with rain. She started to say something, but at that moment Melissa squeezed past me and out the door, opening her little black umbrella.  
Laynee watched as Melissa walked down the road, sadness filled her eyes. She looked back at me, and before I could invite her in out of the rain she stormed off.  
"Laynee! Come back! Let me explain!" I called after her. "You're going to get sick!"  
She shook her head as she got farther away.  
Thanks, Melissa, you sure do know how to make things worse.


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: Here is the next chapter. It's not good at all, in my opinion, but oh well. **_

_**So, if there is anything you want to happen just tell me (review or PM, it doesn't matter to me) it helps me write when I have ideas. These past few chapters have been written off the top of my head about ten minutes before I post because I have trouble thinking sometimes... Anyway, enjoy this chapter.**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I'd left the house not knowing where I was going, so I walked just out of view of the house and stood there. After a minute of thinking I decided to go see Paul. I needed to talk to him. I didn't give him a chance to say anything before and I felt bad, especially since George went all psycho at the hospital.  
As I began my walk to Paul's house it began to rain- well, pour, really, not just rain. Paul's house wasn't exactly a short walk, and I didn't have an umbrella with me (why would I? I wasn't expecting it to rain) but I didn't care. I was going to see Paul one way or another.  
The farther I walked the harder it rained, and the wetter I got. I finally made it to Paul's house and knocked on the door. I thought about using the spare key, but when I looked in its usual spot it wasn't there.  
Paul opened the door, looking shocked to see me. I smiled. I didn't realise how excited I was to see him again. He didn't look as bad as I expected. I knew George could do some damage, but this wasn't too extremely bad.  
I was going to say something since he was just staring at me. It was probably going to be some witty comment about leaving me standing in the rain, but as I was about to say something my heart fell. Melissa was pushing her way past Paul to get out of his house. What was she doing there? Wasn't the hospital bad enough (or good enough, for him.)I stood there, watching as she left. Before she walked off she gave me a smug smirk. I turned to Paul, almost in tears again. Without a second thought I turned from his door and headed on down the road.  
"Laynee! Come back! Let me explain!" Hey called after me.  
Let him explain? Let him explain? I was going to, yeah, but how much explanation do I need. I saw him at the hospital with Melissa, and then I catch her leaving his house. I think I've got enough explanation for right now.  
"You're going to get sick!" He said.  
I just shook my head. Would he care if I got sick? I think getting sick actually sounds like a wonderful idea. It'd give me a reason to just curl up and not move for a few days. It actually sounded like an amazing idea.  
Now where was I going? I had no idea. The rain was becoming rather unbearable, and I was shivering from the cold.  
There was a cafe close by, and from the rain it looked warm and cozy. I stepped in but didn't stay long. One of the people working there made a comment about me making a bigger mess for them to clean because I was dripping with water. Friendly service, huh.  
I quickly left, not wanting to be an inconvenience to the people there. I continued to wander down around, not wanting to go home but not wanting to stay in the rain much longer. I didn't realise where I was until I heard someone say something to me- well, yell something because it was getting to be hard to hear over the rain.  
"You know it's raining, right?" They said.  
"R-r-r-really?" I asked, turning to see who it was.  
It was John, standing in the doorway of his house.  
"How about you come in from the rain?" He suggested.  
I didn't argue. I crossed the road and entered his house. I stood in the doorway, dripping water on the floor.  
"S-s-s-sorry ab-b-bout the w-w-water." I apologised.  
"'S fine. What the hell're you doing out in the rain?" He asked.  
I just shook my head, hoping he'd understand I meant I didn't want to talk about it.. I couldn't really say anything. My teeth were chattering and I was shivering like crazy.  
"Hold on a second," he said, leaving the room.  
I noticed that, compared to Paul, George didn't do quite as much damage to John. Not as bad, but still rather noticeable.  
He walked back with a towel, a blanket, and a pair of clothes.  
"This is to dry of with," he handed me the towel. "These will probably be too big for you, but it's better than what you've got on." He handed me the clothes. "And this is to cover up with because I'm guessing you're freezing." Finally he handed me the blanket.  
"T-t-t-thanks," I managed to say before I went to the bathroom to change, leaving a puddle of water on the floor near the doorway.  
The clothes, like he said, were too big, but they were so much better than the soggy ones I was wearing. I tousled my hair with the tower, not worrying about how it looked, and wrapped the blanket around me. I was so much warmer than I'd been ten minutes ago, but I was still extremely cold. I left my wet clothes in a pile on the floor.  
When I walked back into the room, John was cleaning the floor.  
"Sorry about that," I said as I sat down on his sofa.  
"It's fine." He tossed the towel he was using across the room.  
He sat down next to me and I snuggled up next to him. He put his arm around me. He was warm.  
"Now, why were you wandering in the rain?" He asked me.  
"I didn't want to go home."  
"Why not?"  
"It doesn't matter," I muttered "I just didn't want to."  
It got quiet and I closed my eyes.  
"What're you thinking about?" John asked.  
"I'm just tired," I mumbled as he began to run his fingers through my hair.  
"Then sleep," he said. "You need the rest."  
And I did fall asleep, in the arms of John Lennon.


	24. Chapter 24

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter! Woo hoo! More exciting things to happen soon (or so I hope...) Well I'm not gonna ramble much here today... Ok, here's the chapter. Enjoy!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
I don't know how long it was that Laynee slept, but she looked exhausted. I passed my time watching the rain, like I had before, and listening to Laynee's light breathing as she slept. Eventually the rain stopped. I figured that the best thing to do would be to take her home. George was probably freaking out by now not knowing where she was because, I'm sure, he had no clue where she'd gone. She hadn't even known where she was going.  
I didn't want to wake her, so instead I carried her out to my car. I drove her back to George house and carried her to the door. I used my foot to knock on the door. George answered the door.  
"What did you do her?" He demanded when he saw me and Laynee.  
"I let her take a nap. Is that a crime? Now move so I can set her down."  
He listened, but he didn't look happy. Of course, I wasn't to happy with him either. I don't really appreciate being attacked in a hospital when I feel I've done no wrong.  
I was about to put Laynee in her own bed but Pattie stopped me. She said something about it upsetting Laynee then pointed me towards the guest bedroom. I laid her down, kissed her forehead- I couldn't help it- then re-entered the room with George and Pattie. Ringo and Maureen were there too.  
"How did Laynee just so happen to end up at your house?" George demanded, scowling at me.  
"Just that," I replied. "She just ended up there. She was wandering around in the rain like a lost puppy. I know, you don't like me around her, at all, but it was either let her soak in the rain or invite her inside."  
He still didn't look happy.  
"What was she doing out in the rain?" He asked.  
"Dunno. She said she didn't want to go home, so she was walking." I shrugged.  
He frowned even more, if that was possible.  
"Let me go before you try and kill me," I said, pulling my car keys from my pocket.  
"You drove here?"  
"No, I carried Laynee all the way here and kept the keys in my pocket just for good luck," I replied sarcastically.  
"You're trying to kill her," George said under his breath.  
I never understood why he didn't trust my driving. Ever. Maybe because the one time I wrecked was with him in the car...

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
When I woke up I felt a bit lost. For a minuet or so I wasn't quite sure where I was. I climbed out of the bed I was in and looked around. It took me a while to realise I was back at home. I just wasn't in my room. I was in the guest bedroom. When did I get there?  
I left the room to see where everybody was, but nobody was there. George did leave a note, though.  
"Gone out with Pattie for a bit. Please don't leave the house, and please don't let anybody in. I don't care I you know them."  
Don't leave the house. Don't let anybody in. What am I supposed to do until they got back? The telly was broken- and now cleaned up I noticed- and the house was clean...  
The first thing I did do was decide to change clothes. I was more than thankful that John let me borrow his clothes, but they were too big. They did smell good, though. I'm just not sure how to describe the smell, but I liked it.  
In order for me to change clothes I had to go back to my room. I didn't want to go back there. Almost everything in there haunted me. Mostly the nursery things, but that was almost all that was in my room anymore.  
I walked up to my door and took a deep breath before turning the knob. When the door opened I was shocked to that my room had been emptied out. I'm guessing George and Pattie (maybe with the help of Ringo and Maureen) took it down for me. I was thankful for that, but the emptiness seemed to be just as bad.  
I looked through my closet and decided on what I normally wore- jeans and a t-shirt. With a second thought I decided to keep on John's shirt and just change into my own jeans.  
Out of boredom I ended up organising the bookshelf and the pantry. Alphabetically and by colour. Gosh I was bored...  
I'd pulled a book off the shelf- The Fellowship of the Ringo by J.R.R. Tolkien. I flipped to the first page, thought about reading it, and shut the book again. I wasn't going to read. I couldn't. I couldn't sit and think long enough to read.  
After a while of me pacing there was a knock on the door. I looked out the window to see who it was: George and Pattie. He'd left his key and wanted me to open the door.  
"I can't!" I told him as loud as I could so he could here me through the glass.  
"What do you mean you can't?" He demanded. "Just open it!"  
"But you said not to let anybody in," I reminded him.  
"I'm your cousin!"  
"Even if I know them," I smiled, finishing off what George had specifically told me.  
"Just open the door!" He yelled.  
I laughed and unlocked the knob an the bolt.  
"Why couldn't you have done that in the first place?" He asked.  
"Because I wouldn't get to see you all mad," I smiled. "I'm satisfied now. I'm going to bed. It's late," I said, looking at the clock on the wall. It was nearing ten at night.  
"You're still tired?" Pattie asked.  
"I'm always tired," I replied. "Now you two have fun, but keep it down. I'm trying sleep." I winked at them as I went into my bedroom.  
"She's in a better mood," Pattie commented to George before I'd shut my door.  
"I heard that!" I yelled.  
"Laynee, come here," George said.  
"Yesss?" I asked as I peaked my head around my door.  
Somewhere from the time I'd organised the books to the time George and Pattie got back I'd grown to be happy. Maybe it was the ice-cream I'd found in the freezer...  
"Come here," he said in a rather fatherly way.  
"I was going to bed," I reminded him.  
"I know, I know. I just need to talk to you."  
"Ohh Kay. What is it?" I walked out of my room like he asked me to.  
"I've probably said this before." He started.  
I suddenly felt like a little kid getting a lecture from their parents.  
"But I don't like the idea of you and John." He looked at my shirt. He knew it was John's. I could tell by the look on his face.  
"Ok well there's nothing between us," I shrugged.  
"That doesn't mean he wants to keep it that way, Laynee. And now that you're having issues with Paul you're going to go running to find someone to comfort you."  
I winced at the mention of Paul's name. Somehow I'd managed to forget about him most of the day.  
"Why are so worried?" I asked.  
"I just worry about you sometimes," he replied.  
"Well I'm nineteen, George. Thank you, for everything, but I think I know how to make decisions."  
"Just make sure they're the right decisions." He said.  
"Will do," I said as I turned to go back into my room. "Oh, I'm going to look for a job tomorrow!" I told him. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll take an umbrella. I can walk down the street by myself," I said when I saw the look on his face. He didn't like the idea.  
"Goodnight." Was all he said.  
"Night!"  
I shut my door and sighed.  
'Yes, George, I'll stay away from John.'  
That's what I'd told him, but could I do it?


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N: Woah, chapter 25! That was a lot quicker than I expected! Well, not much to say. Enjoy the chapter, oh, and this still stands, anything you want to see in the story I can try and put it there. Totally open to ideas... Ok, now Enjoy :)**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

It wasn't long after I'd said that I was going to bed that I got up and took myself and my blanket to the sofa. I just couldn't sleep in that room. Like I'd said before, everything was gone but the emptiness staring at me through the light of the moon left a big hole deep inside. So I just decided to sleep on the sofa. I would have gone to the guest bedroom, but that was supposed to be Pattie's when she stayed the night. Of course, she didn't stay in there, but I left it open if she wanted to.

I curled up on the sofa and eventually drifted off to sleep again. It seemed like I'd just closed my eyes when I was awakened by the sound of voices in the kitchen. I rolled of the couch, stood up, ran my fingers through my hair, and went towards the sound of voices.  
"Did you sleep well on the couch?" George asked, cooking something on the stove.  
"I guess," I said, stretching my arms and yawning. "What ya cookin'?"  
"Bacon and eggs. Do you want some?"  
"Did you really just ask that question?" I laughed as I grabbed the plate out of his hand. He rolled his eyes and fixed two more plates, one for him and one for Pattie.  
"What were you doing on the sofa?" Pattie asked as she sat down with her food.  
"Uh... I just felt like sleeping there, y'know..." I trailed off, hoping she did know what I meant. That I couldn't stay in my room right now more than five minutes.  
She nodded and gave me an 'I'm sorry' sort of look, but she didn't say anything else.  
"Well, I'm off to find a job," I declared as I stood up from the table. "After I get ready."  
I walked to my room. What to wear? What to wear?  
"These are the questions that haunt me," I said to myself as I was once again rummaging through my closet.  
I wanted to look nice- appearance is everything most of the time- but I didn't know how exactly to dress. Then I stopped. That was it. Dress. I quickly flipped to the one dress I had hanging in my closet. Pattie had given it to me a while back and now I'd finally get to wear it.  
The dress was a simple knee-length blue dress with a red belt around the waist. I quickly put it on and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I then headed for the door.  
"You takin' that umbrella?" George asked, jokingly.  
"Of course not," I replied, opening the door. "I'm planning on being indoors most of the day, and hopefully home soon, so I won't need it."  
"Good luck!" Pattie smiled.  
"And I'm off!" I said walking out and closing the door behind me.  
Two seconds later I was back inside.  
"First I need shoes."  
I don't know how I forgot them, but I hadn't put shoes on. I grabbed the first pair of shoes I saw and headed back out the door.  
"Now I'm off!"  
I walked down the road, honestly not wanting to go inside anywhere. The shops and places all looked more than weird, and the people inside seemed creepy. Maybe it was just me.  
I found myself walking the same way I had yesterday- just less rain. A lot less rain. I finally decided to go inside somewhere. It was the cafe I'd gotten kicked out of yesterday. Why did I come here? I don't know. I just remembered seeing a sign saying that they were looking for more workers. I guess I'd decided in my subconscious that this was going to be the first place I was going to try.  
I opened the door and was greeted in a more friendly manner- they didn't complain. I asked the man who looked like he was in charge about the open position.  
He smiled at me. "Come with me, I'll see if you're... Suitable for the job."  
I'd been worried about 'creepy' people all day, but now that I met this man. He wasn't too old, he had black hair and coal black eyes. It wasn't the way he looked that was creepy, it was the look in his eyes and the way he talked. I suddenly wanted to leave, but I followed him none-the-less. He led me to a small closet like room next to the restroom. By the look of the room it was some kind of office of his. He sat down in one chair and I sat in the other. I felt really cramped in the small room.  
"What's your name?" He asked, picking up a piece of paper and a pen.  
"Laynee. Laynee Harrison," I said. He wrote it down.  
"Any relation to George Harrison?" He asked.  
"Uh, yes. He's my cousin," I wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell people that or not.  
"Interesting. Remind me I have something to show you." He wrote something down. "How old are you?"  
"Nineteen."  
"Hmm..."Scribble scribble on the paper. "Why do you want the job?"  
"I don't even know what the job is," I admitted.  
He laughed. "My apologies, I forgot to tell you. You'd be a waitress. The last girl had to leave because... Of reasons. It's not my business to tell."  
The way he said that made me feel more uncomfortable, but I don't know why.  
"Either way," I said. "I want the job because I need money."  
He laughed again and wrote something else down.  
He continued to ask questions. Some of which seemed irrelevant to any job, but I answered best I could.  
"I almost forgot!" He said before he let me leave. "I wanted to show you this."  
He pulled out a newspaper. Plastered on the front page was a picture of George Paul and John, all being led to the police station. The headline read:Love Love Me Don't: Beatles John Paul and George fight over a girl." The article was from some "inside source" talking about George attacking John and Paul and one of the doctors.  
"He even came at me, but was stopped by John and Paul."  
I bet you can't guess who that 'inside source' was. Yeah, Melissa. And half of the article wasn't even true. I was not some random girl from the streets they'd all fallen in love with, and George wasn't cheating on Pattie. With me. The thought is laughable, actually.  
I handed the paper back to the man. "Well thank you, Mr..." I didn't know his name yet.  
"Mr. Nothing. It's Stephen, Stephen Parker."  
"Oh, thanks, Stephen, but don't believe everything you read. Only about a fourth of it, if that much is true."  
"I figured as much. Do you want to keep the paper? Show George."  
"Uh, sure, thanks," I said, taking the newspaper back.  
"You can go now," he told me. "I'll see tomorrow at nine."  
"What?! Thank you! Thank you so much!"  
I left the room, and the cafe, in an extremely good mood, clutching the newspaper in one hand.  
I was practically skipping down the sidewalk as I was heading home. Then a thought suddenly hit me. If the story about George was in the paper, how many people knew by now? Everybody, right. And what do crazy fans do to people who hurt one of their beloved stars (even if they are one themselves)? They get angry and they want to 'get even.' Most of the time at least...  
When I rounded the corner to the house I was greeted by a mob of girls all standing outside. What were they planning on doing? They weren't going to get inside. I needed to get inside my house, and I was going to. I tried at first to just push through the crowd. Damn girls just pushed me back. I took a step back.  
"Get the hell out of my way!" I screamed. Everyone turned to look at me.  
"Why would we do that?" Someone asked.  
"Because I want to get into my house. Besides, George isn't even home. If that's what you're waiting for. Now get the hell away from my door!" I was sort of angry, but I was more enjoying the looks on the girl's faces. Yes George was home, but they didn't know that.  
After a moment or so of murmuring amongst themselves they did move and gave me a clear path to the door.  
"Thank you," I said.  
When I got to the door I realised it was locked. I pounded on the door and quicker than I realised it was opened and I was pulled in. The door was shut quickly behind me.  
"How did you get to the door?" George asked. I noticed he had pulled all the curtains shut.  
"I've got my ways. I also told them you weren't here. Now they know that's a lie."  
"Why are they here?" He asked as if they were a lynch mob outside the house.  
"Oh, have you not seen this?" I asked, handing him the paper.  
"Where did you get this?" He asked, staring at the paper.  
"My boss," I smiled. Pattie congratulated me on my new job as George skimmed through the news article.  
"What the hell?!" He exclaimed.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Here's the next chapter. It's not that long, and not my best, but it's here. Sorry that it took so long. I was actually writing another chapter (that probably won't be out any time soon, seeing as it doesn't quite fit into the story yet...) so I've kind of just thrown this chapter together. Enjoy!

(Laynee's P.O.V)

Over the course of the night George read over the newspaper article a good five hundred times if not more.

"Where do they even get this information?" He asked, flipping through the article once more.

"Who do think?" I made a loud coughing noise as I said "Melissa."

"Her?" He sounded shocked.

"Who else did you think it was? Te Easter Bunny?"

"No. I just wasn't thinking." He shook his head. "What're we supposed to do about them?" He pointed a finger towards the door.

"Dunno. Call Brain. But I'm pretty sure Pattie wasn't planning on staying here all week." I said. She laughed a little.

"Oh no, I'm fine. I don't have anything to do until next week."

Of course she didn't. She was at her boyfriends house, and she could just call in work and say she couldn't make it. Me? I'm at my cousins house and I can't just miss my first day of work.

"Well I don't want to be stuck here. I actually have a job," I declared.

"Oh yeah. I forgot..." He trailed off, thinking about something else.

"Don't worry. I'm a big girl. I'll figure it out."

And I did. The next morning I got up- once again from the sofa- and got dressed. It was my usual jeans and a t-shirt since that was all I had left. I then found food to eat since I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. Which is strange for me, but I'd just forgotten about it.

When I'd finished eating a went and looked out the window. The group of girls had dwindled in number, but there were plenty of them there. They all made a small movement towards the house when they saw the curtain move.

I had a plan to get to work, and another one if that didn't work. I walked to the phone and absentmindedly dialled the number as I thought of what I was going to say. The phone rang a few times then was finally answered.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end asked. They sounded like they'd just woken up, and they didn't sound like who I'd meant to call.

"Paul?" I asked. I'd meant to call John...

"Laynee?"

Yeah, it was Paul. I really didn't want to talk to Paul right now. Or any time soon. I must have accidentally dialled the wrong number.

"Yeah, it's me."

Well now what was I going to do about getting to work? I really didn't want to use 'plan B' because it required me walking, but I didn't want to try calling again. I wasn't about to ask Paul to come and pick me up like I was John.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked.

"Why would something be wrong?" I demanded. Why was he automatically assuming something was wrong?

"I dunno. I figured since it early, and, y'know, you've been upset with me... I figured if you'd call there was something wrong..."

"Well I'm fine, thank you. I didn't mean to call. My bad." I hung up the phone and sat back in the chair I was sitting in.

Why did I call him? Why did I screw up and accidentally call him?

Since I wasn't going to try calling John again I decided to just go ahead and leave for work. I was already going to be late by the looks of it. I left out the back door and made sure to go out of my way to miss the girls who were standing outside. To them, anyone who was in that house was fair game for anything they deemed appropriate for 'the horrifying actions that George Harrison took part in' or so the article read.

I was late for work, but Stephen didn't seem to care. He gave me my uniform and I got to working.

There isn't much to say about work. It was a job. I hadn't had once since I was in the States, and it was nice to get my mind off of everything for a while. Get my mind off of everything that was going on. At least for a little while.

It was close to closing time, and for the most part we were already closed. Most everybody had left, and all I was doing was cleaning off the tables and the counter. I heard the bell on the door ring and somebody spoke.

"Ten minutes to closing time and you're almost ready to leave. What if I wanted a coffee or something?"

I turned to face the owner of that familiar voice.

"But you don't want coffee, John. And I wouldn't know how to work that thing to make you one."

"No, I don't," he admitted, smiling.

"Of course ya don't. So what're you really here for?" I asked as I wiped clean the last table and three the rag in the sink.

"I'm here to pick you up from work, m'lady," he said holding his hand out to me.

"Why?" I laughed, taking his hand.

"Because your over protective cousin wants to make sure you make it home safely," he explained.

"He must not hate you as much as he says."

"Oh no, he still does. He said something like 'John, I swear, if you even lay finger on Laynee for any reason, I'll murder you.'" He did his best, yet still sad, impersonation of George.

"But he still trusted you to come and pick me up?" I laughed.

"Pretty much. After a bit of 'oh I promise I wouldn't anything like that.'" He grinned at me.

"Of course."

I told Stephen that I was going home, then we walked out of the cafe and climbed into his car.

Most of the car ride was silent. The first time I spoke was when I noticed the lack of people crowding the walk way to the house.

"Where'd everybody go?"

"Brian pulled some strings and got them all cleared out," he shrugged as he pulled the car into the driveway.

I didn't get out immediately. I sat in the car, looking out the window to the moonlit street.

"Laynee," he said. I turned to look at him. Through the moonlight he smiled at me.

"Yeah?"

"You know, I'm not supposed to be around you unless 'given permission' by George, right?" He asked, bringing himself closer to me.

"I'm very much aware of that."

My heart began to beat faster as he got closer to me.

"Yeah, well I don't really want to do that."

He didn't give me a chance to say anything else. He closed the little bit of distance between us, and once again I was kissing him. This time felt different. I don't know why but it did.

After I-don't-know how long he pulled back and looked at me.

"Laynee, I love you."

I'd heard that. Over and over. And I don't really know if anyone ever actually meant it.

"I've got to go. George is probably wondering where I am..." I didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said.

He quickly kissed me once more and I got out of the car.


	27. Chapter 27

_**A/N: I'm back again, and with another chapter. Warning: this chapter was written while I was talking to an eight year old, so if there is anything that isn't clear (which I don't think there is, but there may be) it might have came from that conversation and I accidentally wrote it down. Just let me know if something doesn't make sense... Oh, and the next few chapters there will be more of other people's P.O.V and not just Laynee's. I'm sure you're wondering what they're thinking. **_

_**Alright. New chapter. Here it is. Enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
There's something about doing something you know you shouldn't that makes it all the more exciting. Especially when it's secret. But things don't stay secret long with my cousins dear girlfriend around...  
I'd gone inside that night in a sort of daze. I walked and sat down in one of the chairs without saying a word. I was still thinking about what John had said. Did he mean that or was he just saying it because he knew I was still out of sorts with Paul? Why would he do that? I don't know, but it's what came to mind at the time.  
George cleared his throat rather loudly, probably expecting me to say something about work or what not, but I didn't. I just stared at him, waiting for him to say something.  
"How was work?" He asked after a brief staring contest- I won.  
"Fine."  
"What'd you do?"  
"Worked," I smiled. He rolled his eyes.  
"Laynee."  
"George."  
"Stop."  
"What?"  
"Stop the one word responses!" He exclaimed.  
"Why?" I smiled again. I knew it was annoying him.  
"What's wrong with you?"  
"Nothing," I laughed, watching the frustration on his face.  
"Yes there is."  
"Nope."  
"Nope?"  
"Yepp."  
"Laynee, I'm serious."  
"So?"  
He huffed. This time it was Pattie, who could have already left by but chose to stay -I wonder why- who spoke up.  
"Did John Bring you home?" She asked. Knowing her, she had already figured out what was 'wrong', or at least she would soon.  
"Yes."  
Judging by the look she gave me she already knew, to an extent. George noticed the look.  
"What? What is it?" He asked.  
"Nothing," we both replied.  
"It's something. I know that much," he said.  
"No, really it's nothing," I said, breaking the chain of single word responses.  
"So you're talking now?" He asked.  
"Maybe." Pattie and I both laughed at the irritated look on his face when I went back to the single words.  
"Fine. I'm going to get my shower," he announced before he stood up and walked out of the room.  
"Ok, what happened?" Pattie seemed rather excited as she said this.  
"Nothing," I said once again. What happened in John Lennon's car needed to stay in John Lennon's car.  
"Don't start that with me. I'm not going to brush it off like George. I want to know what happened when you were sitting out there in Mr. Lennon's car."  
Well, she knew a lot more than I'd hoped.  
"How'd you know I was out there?" I asked.  
"I heard the car drive up. And you spent an awful long time getting out of that car." She kept pressing the matter further. I just wanted to drop it.  
"Uh... My... Seatbelt got caught," I lied. Was I even wearing a seatbelt? I can't remember.  
"Uh-huh. If that seatbelt's name was John Lennon."  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"You know good and well what I'm talking about. Why are you being difficult?"  
"Because I'm hoping that I can avoid your questions long enough for George to come back into the room so you can't interrogate me any more," I admitted.  
"So something did happen!" She exclaimed.  
"How would you know?"  
"You wouldn't be avoiding me otherwise," she smiled triumphantly.  
"So?"  
"What happened? I want to know!" She begged me.  
"Why?"  
"Just curious," she shrugged.  
"It was nothing, and if you say otherwise to anybody I'll hurt you," I threatened.  
"But I do say 'otherwise', so just tell me. Do I have to talk to John? He'll give me answers."  
"Why do you want to know?" I asked again. "I'm not asking about you and George, now am I?" I pointed out.  
"Yeah, but you know what's going on between us."  
"Touché..."  
"Just tell me. Please!"  
"No!"  
"Please?"  
"No."  
"Pleeasee?" She begged.  
"No!"  
This went on for a few minutes. I was hoping George would show soon, but he didn't, and I finally gave in. I told her everything that had happened from that morning- the phone conversation with Paul- to that night- the conversation in the car with John.  
"He said he loved you?" She practically squealed.  
"Shhh. Let's not let the entire street know!"  
"Sorry!" She clapped her hand over her mouth for a second. "Did he really?"  
"Yes," I replied.  
"What did you say?"  
"That George was probably wondering where I was..."  
"Really, Laynee, really?" She shook her head, laughing at me.  
"What was I supposed to say? 'I love you too'? I don't know if I so or not!"  
"You act like you do," she said in a sing-song voice.  
"What're you talking about?"  
"That look you had on your face when you walked into the house..."  
"What?"  
"Yeah. You could tell in your eyes. That's how I knew something'd happened," she smiled at me.  
"So your saying I should have said 'I love you too' or something?"  
"No. That's your decision. I'm just stating what I noticed."  
"Oh... Alright..." I didn't know what to say.  
"Will you be seeing him again soon?" She asked.  
"I'd expect so."  
"Good. You can tell him then. Or the next. It doesn't matter. There's plenty of time." She seemed overly excited about this.  
When George walked back into the room, hair still wet and a towel around his neck, Pattie was sitting on one end of the sofa with a smile on her lips. It was a smile of triumph. I sat on the other, my knees pulled to my chest. I couldn't believe I'd just told her all of that...  
"Are you staying?" George asked Pattie.  
"I've got something to do tonight," she winked at me.  
Oh no. What was she going to do?  
"Alright, I'll see you, then." He kissed her before she came to whisper in my ear.  
"We didn't get a chance to talk about Paul. We'll get to that next time." She smiled at me, kissed George again, then left the house.  
Another conversation? If it ended like this I'll have told her the depths of my heart in just a short while. Great. More to look forward to.


	28. Chapter 28

_**A/N: New chapter! Yay! Sorry for the delay. Didn't have much writing time this week seeing as my school went crazy this week, but I have a new chapter now. And you can read it. And tell me what you think. That'd be nice... Enjoy!**_

(Paul's P.O.V)  
My day had been normal, for the most part. I didn't leave the house, considering the fact that I was still banged up from George. I stayed at home and attempted to write a few songs. It was mostly just playing around in my instruments. It was normal for a regular lazy day for me. But today wasn't really a normal lazy day. Laynee had called earlier- much earlier- and ever since then I couldn't get her out of my mind. I constantly found myself wondering what she was doing, who she was with, where she was. I know it was none of my business, but I couldn't help wondering. I couldn't believe that in just a few of days I'd ruined everything, and there was nothing I could do about if. My thoughts kept distracting me from what I was (planning on) doing- write more music.  
Another strange thing happened that day- well, evening. Pattie showed up on the doorstep.  
"Uh, hi there," I said when I saw that it was her. She's never been here, even when George came over every once in a while.  
"Hey," she smiled.  
"What are you doing here?" I asked.  
"Just wanted to stop by. You know, we haven't really talked since..." She paused, trying to think of a time that we'd actually talked. She couldn't think of anything. "We just haven't really talked," she finally said.  
"Yeah... Uh, come in, I guess."  
She walked inside and looked around.  
"I'm not sure if I've ever really been here," she commented, still looking around.  
"This is my house." I stood there awkwardly for a moment or so. She sat down.  
"Why are you really here?" I asked.  
"I don't know. Just wanted to talk." She shrugged.  
"About what? We don't normally 'just talk' about any random thing."  
"Oh, I dunno, Laynee, I guess." She shrugged again.  
"What's wrong?" I asked.  
That was the first thought in my mind. Something has to be wrong if anybody's going to come to me about it now. Just like when she'd called. The first response I had was 'what's wrong?'  
"Nothing's wrong, per se, with Laynee," she said.  
"Then what?"  
"I'm just here to clear some things up for my own sake, really. Just some things I'm figuring out."  
"What would those things be?"  
"I'm not quite sure exactly, but I've got some questions. So you stop asking and I'll be out of your hair soon."  
I nodded my head, refraining from asking another question: why?  
"Ok, first off I want you to tell me your story on what happened. At the hospital I mean. I've heard Laynee's side of the story. I need yours."  
"That's not a question," I pointed out.  
"Shut up and tell me," she ordered.  
I obeyed and explained, best I could, what had happened. I wasn't completely sure myself what had happened. It just happened.  
"You know that's still your fault," she told me when I'd finished my story.  
"I figured that much," I muttered. "Why'd you want to talk about that?"  
"Not important right now. Next thing, what about that day it was raining? That wasn't long ago at all. None of this is... But still. Laynee ended up being brought home by John that day, sound asleep and obviously wet from wandering in the rain.  
John. Of course. Who else would she run to?  
"That was not my fault," I said quickly, emphasising the 'not' so it'd get my point across.  
"Still, tell me what happened," she insisted.  
"Not much to it, really. I got home, Melissa was here when I got here. I told her to leave, but she didn't want to. She decided, though, that she would leave just as Laynee showed up at the door. Laynee stormed off, ignoring me when I tried to tell her to stop." I paused for a second. Why hadn't I just ran after her?  
"I don't know what happened after that," I finally finished. "What's the relevance in any of this?"  
"Shush, stop asking questions. That's my job at the moment."  
"Fine. Continue."  
"Last bit. What about that phone call this morning?"  
"I don't know what to tell you about that. All I know is she called."  
"You're not being helpful," she sighed.  
"What are you trying to get at?" I asked.  
She ignored the question, so it seemed.  
"Paul, I want to know, be honest, please, what are your feelings for Laynee?"  
"Why are you asking?"  
"Shut up and answer me. What are your feeling for Laynee?" She asked again.  
I looked down at my hands.  
"Paul."  
"What?"  
"Answer," she ordered.  
"I can't really explain it," I finally replied, looking up from my hands. It was as honest an answer as I could give.  
"But you still love her?"  
"Why wouldn't I?" I laughed. "I can't really help the fact that she doesn't exactly want to talk to me anymore. That doesn't keep me from loving her."  
Pattie just sat there for a second then laughed quietly to herself.  
"This'll be interesting." She stood up and was about to walk out the door when I stopped her.  
"What'll be interesting?" I asked.  
"Oh, it's nothing right now," she smiled. "I'm done here. I'm leaving."  
"No, what're you talking about?" I demanded.  
"Well..." She hesitated, debating on weather or not she was going to tell me anything.  
She looked at me, bit her lip, looked towards the door, back at me, back at the door, back at me, then threw her hands up in exasperation.  
"'Well...' What?" I asked when she'd came back and sat down.  
"Uh... Weeellll..." She drew out her words, drawing out how long it was before she had to tell me anything.  
"It's, uh, it's Laynee and John," she said quickly, getting the information out of the way.  
"What? What about Laynee and John?" I demanded.  
Those weren't really words that I wanted to hear together- Laynee and John. Maybe I was just just jealous.  
"It was probably nothing..."  
"What is is?" I asked. "What is this-this 'nothing'?"  
"Um... John picked Laynee up from work- she got a job by the way, not part of the point- he drove her home and...he kissed her... And told her he loved her... But like I said, probably nothing."  
"Oh..." Was all I could say. That was... That was not good for me. At all.  
"Yeah... I gotta go," Pattie said, standing up again. "Sorry. About everything, I guess."  
"Thanks, I guess..." I just sat there, starting at the floor. I didn't really notice when she left the house, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

(Pattie's P.O.V)  
When I left Paul's house I sort of felt bad for telling him what I did. I knew that since he'd asked he was going on I had to tell him, but maybe I shouldn't have come over at all. Hey, I'm just trying to help Laynee make up her mind. I just didn't mean to leave Paul looking so sad looking just sitting there. It was somewhat depressing, but I couldn't stay longer and make it better. That's not something you just 'make better' because it never works. Besides, I had other places that I needed to be.


	29. Chapter 29

_**A/N: Sorry for the wait. I've been bust with end-of-school stuff, so I haven't had much time to write. But here it is- chapter 29! I can't believe I'm almost to 30! Woo hoo! Let me know what you think about this chapter! Enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I can't say I woke up the next morning because I didn't even go to sleep the night before. Pattie worried me. I spent the entire night wondering what the hell she was doing. Where she was going. There were a number of places she could go, and an equal number of places I was hoping she would stay away from. Of course, she was probably going and doing exactly what I didn't want her to.  
I got up the next morning, rubbing the tiredness from my sleepless eyes. I got up at the first signs of daylight. I'd spent enough time just lying in the sofa. I needed to get up. Lying down allowed my mind to wander too much.  
My mind, that morning, kept wandering back to John, no matter how hard I tried to keep it from there. I tried to focus my thoughts to my job, but John's face appeared in my mind. I tried to focus on what I was going to eat for breakfast, but I couldn't. No matter what topic I presented my mind to think about, I couldn't stay focused long enough to actually think about them.  
'Laynee, I love you' kept playing over and over in my head; his voice speaking it a million times to me. It was nice, in a way, but it was also driving me crazy. Like a song you get stuck in your head that won't go away until you hear it again...  
I'd spent a fair amount of time showering and then, for the most part, staring at the clothes in my closet, thinking- about what, I'm sure you already know. When I finally remembered I had a uniform to wear to work I left my closet and headed to the kitchen. When I walked into the kitchen I, at first, didn't notice a very groggy George standing there with the fridge door open, looking inside. When I did see him it scared me, resulting in a shocked scream. I wasn't expecting him to be awake.  
"Shhh," he said, waving his hand tiredly at me. "Don't be so loud. Some of us don't get up before the sun does- or they don't enjoy it." He grumbled.  
"If you don't want to be up then what're you doing in the kitchen scaring the hell out of me?" I asked, still recovering from the shock.  
"Getting food," he replied.  
"Why?" I asked. He wasn't answering my question.  
"Brian told us yesterday that we had to come into the studio today since we haven't-" he yawned, causing me to yawn, "since we haven't done anything lately."  
He closed the fridge, opened it, looked in, then closed it again. This time slightly slamming it.  
"Remind me to go buy food," he said as he walked out of the kitchen.  
"Will do," I said, opening the fridge myself.  
I laughed. There was an entire carton of eggs sitting there, yet there was nothing to eat- according to George.  
After I ate myself a couple of eggs I cooked George a plate of his own. When I brought it to him he was half asleep on the sofa. I shoved his head, placed the food in his lap, and bounded out the door before he could say or do anything.  
I'd decided to head to work early today, to make up for my lateness yesterday. I was thankful that the crazy girls were kept at bay - and probably watching everything happening near and around the house from some secret location. What I wasn't thankful for was being stopped by a nosy reporter. She chased me down, pulled out a pad and pen, and began asking questions.  
"Excuse me, you live with George Harrison, correct?" She didn't wait for a denial or confirmation. "What can you tell us about what happened at the hospital?"  
"Nothing," I replied, trying my best to get rid of her by walking faster. She kept right at my heels.  
"But you were there, weren't you? Weren't you the reason for it all?"  
"I don't know why it happened," was my only response. I wasn't lying. I didn't know why it'd happened.  
"How did you end living with George?"  
"Shut up and go away," I said.  
"Do you know who I am?" She asked as if I was actually supposed to know who she was.  
I stopped walking and looked at her.  
"Do I care?" I asked. "No. Now take yourself and your stupid little notebook and leave me alone."  
I plucked her notepad out of her hands and tossed it out into the middle of the road. She gasped with rage as a car drove by and ran over it, leaving it a crumpled mess. She ran out into the road, as soon as it was safe, and I ran off, continuing to the cafe.

* * *

(George's P.O.V)  
I ended up making it to the studio late, which was funny to me since I'd woken up early for the purpose of making to the studio on time today. That plan didn't work to well. I guess some time after Laynee fixed me breakfast and left I'd dozed off again. When I'd woken up a sort of jumped, startled that I'd been asleep. The now empty plate hit the floor, but luckily didn't break. I quickly got ready, throwing whatever was closest on, and going fast as I could to the studio where everybody was waiting impatiently.  
"Sorry I'm late," I said slipping in and picking up my guitar.  
"Why're you late?" George Martin asked impatiently.  
"I overslept. I was tired. I'm sorry."  
"And this is why I say it's a bad idea for him to let Pattie stay over at night," John said mostly to Ringo. Ringo just laughed. Maureen had been at his house last night.  
"She didn't stay last night, John, thank you very much," I snapped.  
"Yeah," Paul mumbled quietly, so quietly that I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't drawn my attention to him by fidgeting in his seat.  
"What?"  
"Nothing," he said.  
"How's Laynee?" John asked suddenly.  
I noticed Paul shoot him a glance. I didn't really know what it meant, but I was guessing it had to do with the said subject of John's question.  
"What's it matter to you?" I asked.  
"Just curious. Sorry," he said. He wasn't sorry. He wanted to know how Laynee was. What she was doing. If he could take her out later. Laynee could deny it all she wanted, but I was almost positive something had happened between her and John. Of course, being 99% positive isn't 100% positive, so I wasn't exactly sure.  
"Are we going to get on with this or not? Stop the chit-chat!" George Martin ordered. And we did.

* * *

(John's P.O.V)  
"What do you think you're doing?" Paul asked. The studio was empty except for us. He'd said he'd needed to talk to me. I laughed at him, but agreed anyway.  
"I dunno what you're talking about," I said, sitting in the chair that I'd sat in the past few hours of recording and rehearsing.  
"You know damn well what I'm talking about, and I'd like to know why you're doing it," he demanded.  
"No, I don't know," I said, trying my best to irritate him. I knew exactly what he was talking about, and he knew I did. I just wanted him to say it. It'd be more amusing.  
"John."  
"What?"  
"Laynee," he said, glowering at me.  
"What about her?" I asked.  
"What do you think you're doing with her?"  
"Nothing, yet," I smirked.  
"You wouldn't-"  
"Anyway, Paul," I was changing the topic of this particular conversation, "is that all you wanted? You wanted to know why I've taken your girlfriend, who is obviously through with you. You were hoping she still loved you, right? But she's not talking to you. Or about you. So you're just out of luck, mate."  
"You never stop loving somebody," he mumbled to himself as he left the studio, leaving me there by myself.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: I know what you're thinking: "wow! That was a speedy update!" and yes, it was quite fast for me. I've had time to write (surprisingly) but that may not be true for the next fe days. I've got tons of exams to take to finish out this school year. And I've been distracted with Ouran High School Host Club recently (thanks, friends) so I've no clue when I'll post again, but I've got this one up! Yay! Not exactly a lot going on, I guess, but it's getting somewhere. Enjoy!**

**(random side story: so I have a picture of Paul McCartney as my background on my phone. A guy picks up my phone, sees the picture and goes 'who is that?' I respond with 'Paul McCartney, duh!' Them: 'Oh. Are you like dating them or something?' Me: 'yes. Yes I am. I'm dating Paul McCartney.' And the guy still has no clue who Paul is, so I'm extremely amused by this guys sadness at me 'having a boyfriend') ok, now on to the story. Enjoy!**

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Through the next few days- or weeks or whatever, I don't know- was a bit more complicated than I was hoping. First of all I had work, but that wasn't too terrible. It was bearable. It kept me busy until later most nights, but it still wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.  
Next there were reporters, which wasn't fun. Ever since I offended that one girl- some big-shot I was supposed to have heard of (obviously I hadn't)- everyone was out to get me- at least pictures and stories about me. Printing stories about 'the psycho living with George Harrison' or 'The girl just toying with the Beatles' or anything along those line. I couldn't be seen anywhere with any of the boys- even Pattie and Maureen!- without getting a photo in a magazine or paper and some absurd story to go along with it (usually not even remotely correct) even when they couldn't see me they'd make up a story to make good news. People began to print old photos- mostly ones of Paul and I- trying to make it seem like recent news. None of them realised at the time that I was pregnant in the pictures with Paul, but not now. But that doesn't matter to them. Whatever to do to make some money, huh?  
Not only pictures of Paul and I were printed. There was a fair share of pictures of John and I, and that was sure to cause problems. It's hard to secretly date one of the Beatles with a camera in your face twenty four/seven. It wasn't too bad. There were normally just pictures of him driving me home, which George knew about. George was the one who sent him. Not this time. This time would be a lot harder to cover up than I'd liked. On the front cover of one of the major magazines at all the newsstands was a certain picture of John and I, uh, kissing. For the longest time I couldn't figure out how the picture was taken. We were in John's house for crying out loud! The photographer had to have been right at the window. Of course I didn't see them. I wasn't exactly looking.  
Like most any normal day John came to pick me up from work. That was normal. George knew about that. Somehow we got to talking about how George was out with Pattie, and he wouldn't know or not if I showed up later to the house than usual. That conversation led us to end up at John's house. We went inside and talked for a while- I don't know what about, but it didn't really matter. John at one point began whispering in my ear. I mostly laughed at the corny romantic things he was saying in my ear, but every once in a while the feel of his breath on my neck caused me to shiver. He would smile in response. He continued on for a while, whispering I mean, when all of a sudden his mouth moved from their position at my ear to my neck. He began slowly kissing my neck, and I didn't stop him. I liked the way it felt. Slowly, inch by inch, his lips found their way to my mouth. I didn't hesitate to kiss him back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled on too of him- we'd been sitting on his sofa. So there he was, kissing me very passionately, and there I was- not stopping him. To an outside eye it would look worse than it really was. Then- yes, I do remember. There was a flash. And he stopped. That flash. A camera. The picture...  
"You need to be getting home," he said, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair.  
"Yeah..." I said, standing up and straightening my clothes.  
"I'll drive you." He stood up, too.  
"Thanks."  
"I love you," he said, kissing me again.  
He looked at me for a moment, unsure of what my reaction would be, but I smiled at him.  
"I love you too, John."  
He smiled, grabbed my hand and led me to the car to take me home.  
Now, a good while later and that picture is plastered across the front of a magazine. Where everybody can see it. I'm dead. George is going to see it- how would he not?- and he's going to kill me. And bye bye Beatles because he's going to kill John. No doubt.  
Stephen, my boss, was the first person to kindly point out the picture.  
"Great," I mumbled, slightly embarrassed about the photo. "I get to walk into my grave tonight."  
"Do you want to keep this one? To read the article or whatever?" He offered.  
"Thanks," I said, taking the magazine and rolling it up so it would fit better in my pocket.  
It seemed that with the way he talked he had more than one copy of the magazine...  
It was near impossible for me to get any work done that day. First of all because everybody was either talking, laughing, or asking questions about the picture. I tried to pretend I didn't know what they were talking about. That worked until the girls I worked with pulled it out to show me, like I really didn't know.  
Apart from the constant questions, Stephen assigned me the job of 'training' the new employee. I found that odd since I was a new employee myself, but hey, more money for me I was told.  
"She said she knows you," Stephen said, bringing the new girl out front for me to see. The smirk on her face was more than familiar.  
"Unfortunately she wasn't lying," I said, staring at the girl in disbelief.  
"Well great, then. This'll be easy!" He said in a cheery way.  
"If you want to say that," I said, putting down the dish cloth I was holding.  
"Long time no see, Laynee," she smiled at me.  
"I was hoping it would be longer- a lot longer- Valerie," I spat back.  
I couldn't believe it. It seemed that the unpleasant people from my past decided to come back and haunt me. Mark and Stella were one example. Melissa was another. And I was expecting Valerie to be the same way.  
Not even half way through the day, my predictions came true. She was constantly commenting about everything I did- what I was wearing, how I was dressed, even how I was breathing ("You should just stop!")  
"Look, if you want to know how it was ask Valerie! She knows just as well as I do!" I exclaimed when I was asked, for the millionth time- what it was like to kiss John.  
The only good thing about Valerie is that she did date John, giving the other employees someone else to pester instead of me.  
"Stephen?" I said, poking my head into his closet of an office.  
"Yes, Laynee?" He said, looking up from the magazine he was reading.  
So he did have two copies...  
"Mind if I turn in early today?" I asked. "Works a bit stressful for me today."  
He sat down the magazine.  
"That's fine. I understand. He smiled at me.  
"Thank you so much! Now, if I end up dead tomorrow you'll know what happened." I joked.  
"Oh yes," he laughed. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that. It'd be such a waste of a pretty face like yours."  
I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I just thanked him again and left.  
Before I could get to the door I couldn't help but overhear a hushed conversation:  
"You think he's going to try her next?"  
"Nah, she'd never do that."  
"I dunno. I'm sure he'll try though."  
"Yeah, d'you hear the way he was talking?"  
The two girls- both working at the cash register- erupted in laughter.  
What the hell were they talking about? I wondered this as I headed the long foot-journey home.


	31. Chapter 31

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter. It came out a lot sooner that I thought it would considering the fact my iPod is pretty much broken (won't hold a charge, and I don't have a working charger-although I just bought one, but that one was already broken! Its Just so frustrating!) I was able to get on my computer and use that to type out this chapter, so if something looks funny it's probably a slip of the finger's on the computer keys. **_

_**Anyway, here's chapter 31. It's a bit longer than most of my previous chapters, so enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

I headed home, hoping the house would be empty when I got there – wishing vainly that it would remain empty forever. I didn't really want to face George. Not then. Not ever.

The words Valerie spoke still rang clear in my ears: "Nobody even likes you. Why are you even still here? Y'know, I find it pretty pathetic how you all of a sudden ran to John. Was screwing with one Beatle not enough? You just want to be the center of attention don't you?"

I knew what she said wasn't true, and most of it I tried to keep out of my mind, but now that I was heading home all alone the words couldn't help but ring loud and clear in my ears Great. I needed that. The negative words really helped brighten the day.

I kept wishing that I'd be alone when I got home, but no. Not only was I not alone, but everybody was there. George, Pattie, Ringo, Maureen, John and Paul. They were all talking about something, George looked angry, so I could only guess what it was, but I didn't need to. I knew. It was a particular picture on the cover of a particular magazine, and that was exactly what I was hoping it wouldn't be.

"You're home early," George said when I walked through the door.

"Yeah. Off work early," was all I could say.

"Hmmm…"

I looked around at everybody, spread out across the room, and they all looked back at me. I felt like I'd just murdered somebody and was trying to hide the fact that I did. Of course, I was trying to hide something.

"Well…" I said looking around at everybody once more. "I'm going to go change.

I slipped away to my room and sat down on my bed. I sat there for a minute or two then stood up and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that was lying in my floor. It probably wasn't clean, but I didn't care.

Instead of sucking it up and going back out like any strong little girl would do, I curled up in my bed. I ignored the feelings of emptiness and loneliness I got while in my room and crawled under the covers and pulled them up over my head. I was on the verge of tears – everything was going horribly wrong for me, but I had to suck it all up when there was a knock at my bedroom door.

"Who is it?" I asked, removing the blanket from my head.

"Pattie."

"And Maureen."

"The door isn't locked," I said, refusing to get out of my bed.

"How ya doin'?" Pattie asked as she walked into my room and sat down at the end of my bed.

"Just great," I said sarcastically. I was the complete opposite of great.

"He doesn't know," Maureen said quietly when she shut the door.  
"What?"

"George. He doesn't know it's you," Pattie corrected.

"What do you mean he doesn't know it's me?" I asked, completely lost.

"He doesn't know. We've been able to convince him that it isn't you. He can't prove it is. It's a black- and-white photo. You can't tell that's your very obvious auburn colored hair, and luckily you weren't wearing your work uniform that day. It could have been anybody. With the help of those three boys in there, we may have him tricked." Pattie smiled.

"Who does he think it is?" I laughed, not believing myself that George was going to believe something like that. He may not be able to figure some things out, but he defiantly wouldn't believe something as stupid as this.

"Some girl John picked up at the pub," Maureen shrugged as if I should have already guessed that.

"And if we can have it our way, everybody will be believing that story," Pattie finished off. "But that isn't all that's wrong with you, is it?" Pattie asked. "You're not just worried about that picture, are you? There's something else, isn't there?"

She guessed correctly, as she usually always did. I sat up.

"You won' believe who I ran into today," I said in a false-cheery voice.

"Who?" Maureen asked.

"Melissa?" Pattie guessed.

"Oh, no. But this particular person will be working with for as long as I know. And she's a jealous…"

They both just sat there, trying to figure out who it could possibly be.

"She used to date John…" I gave them another hint.

"Valerie!?" they both exclaimed at the same time.

"She's working with you know how? Why?" Pattie asked.

"I don't know. She asked for a job and Stephen gave her one, I guess."

Pattie just shook her head.

"And I have no idea how I'm going to deal with her. She's constantly right under me, and she's the reason I came home from work early. I'd probably have killed her if I'd have stayed."

"Should have," Pattie mumbled.

I thought about what the girls were talking about as I left the café, but decided that wasn't really important. They might not have been talking about me in the first place.

"That's not good," Maureen said. "Uh, we need to get back before the boys start to wonder what we're doing."

"Yeah," Pattie agreed. "Oh, Laynee, I still need to talk to you about a certain somebody," She winked at me. I knew what she was talking about. We'd never had our conversation about Paul. I'd always been too busy.

"Can't wait," I said sarcastically.

Maureen gave us a questioning look but didn't say anything about it. I was thankful.

* * *

(Ringo's P.O.V)

"I swear, George, that isn't Laynee," John said for what seemed like the hundredth time. It seemed that he'd said it a hundred times and I'd agreed, but nothing seemed to really convince George, but maybe now it was working,

"I'm not that stupid," George said, frowning at John. "But if you insist it isn't you, then what's wrong with her? Why is she acting like she is? Why is she home early?"

"It's probably something at work. It's not the picture. That has nothing to do with her." This time it was Paul who spoke, and I was shocked.

This was the first time Paul had actually spoken since we got to George's house. Anybody with half a brain could see the mix of pain and jealousy on his face. Equally obvious to anybody who ever met Paul would know why – he was still completely and hopelessly in love with Laynee. And this whole picture mess was bringing him to a breaking point. You could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. We all knew that the only reason he agreed to lie for John is because he wasn't just helping John. He was doing it only for Laynee.

"Yeah," I agreed. "She'll probably tell us when they get back in here."

I said 'they' because Pattie and Maureen had gone to talk to Laynee for a while, let her know what was going on and all of that.

"Who was it, then, if it wasn't Laynee?" George asked John suddenly.

"I don't know, George. I was drunk. You expect me to remember anything that happened then?"

John lied so easily that it was actually really scary. It was very unlikely that he didn't remember anything from that day. He actually remembered it quite well, and he'd told me about it frantically over the phone, begging me to come and help "save my neck" as he put it.

"And that's one of the reason's I don't like you," George muttered.

"Oh joy, there's more than one?" John asked with a false-cheery voice under his breath.

That conversation ended soon after that. The girls walked back into the room.

"Guess who's back," Pattie said to George in a sing-song voice as she sat down in between him and me. Maureen sat down on the other side of me.

"Who?" He asked, not even attempting to guess.

"Well you're no fun," she grumbled, but shrugged it off quickly. "It's Valerie."

We all sat silent for a minute, looking around at each other. Valerie? Back? Where had she gone? And why was she so suddenly back?

"Where?" I asked. Everybody was wondering it, but I was the only one who would say anything.

"Work," Laynee replied. She ended up sitting on the floor, her back against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and her head was laid down on her arms.

"You mean she works with you?" George asked.

"Yeah," Laynee said, not lifting her head.

"Is that why you – you came home early?" Paul spoke again.

"Yes," was all Laynee said.

Paul glared at John. It was John's fault that Valerie ever became an issue. Everybody knew that. Especially Paul and he didn't like the idea of it. He didn't like the fact that John had gone out and found Valerie just to make Laynee jealous of her. He'd purposely hurt Laynee. Of course, Paul hurt Laynee too, but he didn't mean to, or at least he keeps telling us that he didn't mean to. I'm still not sure whether I should believe him or not.

"What're you gonna do about it?" John asked her.

"Nothing," Laynee replied, not even bothering to lift her head up off of her knees.

"What are YOU going to do about it, John?" George asked him. He too knew that all of this was ultimately John's fault.

"What can I do?" John shrugged. "I can't help what she does, George."

Laynee lifted her head up to look at John. I could tell she was hurt by the obvious lack of John's concern.

"Really?" She asked.

"What do you mean really?" He demanded.

"Nothing," she laid her head back down.

"Look, there's nothing I can do about it, OK?"

"Sure," Laynee said.

I wasn't positive, but by the way she sounded she was trying her best not to cry.

"Something will be done about it," George said. I wasn't sure if he was talking to Laynee or John, or maybe both.

"Fine," Laynee said.

George whispered something to Pattie. I didn't hear what he said except something about one word responses. Pattie shook her head and whispered back. Laynee glanced up just far enough to see the two, but not far enough for anyone to see her face.

"Would you stop talking about me?" She asked. "I'm not able to hear you, but I'd rather not be the topic of conversation right now."

She sat her head back down on it place on her knees, but not before wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She was crying, but I don't know if anybody else noticed.


	32. Chapter 32

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Not much, but it's a little something. Hope you like it. Enjoy!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
Laynee was obviously upset – I could tell by the muffled sobs coming from where she was sitting. Great. I didn't mean to upset her. I was saying what I had to to convince George that the girl in the picture wasn't Laynee. But I wanted so badly to laugh in his face and tell him: "Yes, that is Laynee, and there's nothing you can do about it, so just get the hell over it and leave us alone."But I didn't. I couldn't. George wouldn't get over it and he wouldn't get over it. It'd be the death of me, and Laynee would never leave the house again. I'm sure again.  
I said what I said. I upset her. And I now wished so badly to cross the room and wrap her in my arms, tell her that I didn't mean it, that I did love her, but I couldn't. There was still a room full of people, and nothing I could do about it.  
"Uh, Ringo, I was supposed to go pick something up from that shop we stopped at last week. I think they said if I don't get it by today I won't be able to get it. We need to go," Maureen said, standing up.  
"What?" Ringo was confused.  
"Let's go," she insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door.  
"Ok…" He was still confused, but they left.  
Good. Two down three more to go. Thankfully Pattie caught on rather quickly.  
"George, weren't we supposed to be going out today?" She asked.  
"Uh, yeah."  
"Then let's go!"  
"What about, uh-" He motioned towards Laynee.  
"She'll be fine. She's a big girl. Now let's go!" She insisted.  
"Alright," George said, standing up and looking cautiously at Laynee, then me, then Laynee, then Paul, and decided it was safe to go.  
Great. Two more down, Paul to go. And by the way he was looking at me he wasn't happy. And he didn't look like he wanted to go. By the way he was looking at Laynee he seemed to want to stay and talk to her himself, but I wasn't going to let that happen.  
"Paul," I said, looking at him. He glared back at me. I motioned with my head towards the door, and after a minute of silent arguing he got up.  
"I guess I gotta go too," he said. I guess he was hoping for some kind of response from Laynee, but she refused to even move.  
I hoped she would say or do something when he left, but she didn't. I finally crossed the room and kneeled beside her. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, but she ignored me.  
"Laynee," I whispered in her ear. She still ignored me.  
I wasn't sure what to do. I sat there looking around the room, and I finally decided to do what I knew best when she gets upset.  
I grabbed her face in my hands and lifted her lips to mine.  
She didn't protest. If she'd wanted to she could have stopped me, I would have let her, but she didn't. She wasn't that mad at me. Instead she kissed me back.  
"You've got to stop doing that," she said when the kiss ended.  
"What d'ya mean?" I smiled.  
"You know exactly what I mean. I mean that you can't just kiss me every time you get freaked out and expect everything to be fine."  
"I didn't see you trying to stop me," I pointed out.  
"We- bu- I... That's because I wanted you to," she admitted. "But still, you can't just do that and expect everything to be ok. That's not how this works."  
"Not how what works?" I asked, moving from the kneeling position I was in to sit down beside her.  
"Not how, I dunno, us works," she suggested, sounding a bit uncertain as she said it.  
"So there's an us then?" I asked, smiling contentedly to myself, I already knew the answer.  
"Well I thought there was, or would be..." She stopped before she finished.  
"You thought, but-?" I urged her on to finish what she was saying.  
"Why'd you have to say what you did like that?" She asked. "Hell, I know you can't do anything about it, but you didn't have to make it sound like you didn't even want to try."  
"I didn't mean to. I just- I was keeping up with keeping George clueless," I said.  
She rolled her eyes.  
"He's not clueless. He probably knows a lot more than you think. I'm not sure myself, but I'm guessing he knows more than we expect."  
"If he knew anything I'd be dead. You know that."  
"Yeah..." She agreed, then stared off at the far wall, thinking about something. "John," she said, looking at me.  
"Yeah?"  
"Why did you do it?" She asked.  
"Do what?" I wasn't quite following her train of thought.  
"Why'd you date Valerie in the first place?" She clarified.  
"Oh. That?"  
Why had I dated Valerie? I wasn't even sure.  
"Yeah, that."  
"I- uh- I don't know," I told her.  
"Sure you don't," she grumbled.  
I didn't. Or I didn't think I did.  
"Well, I... I guess I'm just... An impatient person..." I said. It was true, but I'm not sure exactly what it meant.  
"I'll just pretend I didn't ask," she rolled her eyes and stood up, wiping the remaining traces of tears from her face.  
"Because that didn't even remotely answer my question."  
"Laynee, I don't know why I did that. I can be extremely stupid. I'm sorry," I said, standing up myself.  
"Well you'll never know how much emotional pain you put me through with that. I thought I was through with her."  
She looked up at me, I couldn't really tell if she was still upset or not.  
"Now leave. George won't be happy if he gets home and finds you here."  
She pecked my lips and pushed me towards the door.  
"Goodbye then," I said when she'd pushed me all the way out the door.  
"Bye," she said, shutting the door in my face.

* * *

(George's P.O.V)  
We'd been driving around for a good twenty minutes, having yet to stop.  
"Are we actually going to do something or can we go back home?" I asked, glancing over at Pattie. She was looking out the window, but she hadn't said a word.  
"What are you talking about?" She asked.  
"Don't do that. Don't act like I can't figure out why we left the house."  
I looked back at her. She got quiet again.  
"So do you think Laynee and John are done with whatever they're doing whatever they're doing or do we need to drive around and waste more gas?"  
"We can go back," she said. "How did you know?"  
"It was too much of a nice coincidence for Maureen and you to have to go somewhere at the same time. I can put two and two together, Pat."  
"Oh. Well y'know that girl in the pictures isn't Laynee. We wouldn't have wasted our time if it was."  
"If you say so," I shrugged as we headed our way back to my house.


	33. Chapter 33

_**A/N: Next chapter! Yay! So, I was thinking about stopping the story at a certain point (I've already got the chapter written) but realised, hey, this is all I do now- write this story. Summer's coming, I'll nave nothing else to do, so I'm continuing on. I've got general ideas of what will happen. I just wanted to let y'all know that (unlike I'd originally been planning) the story will be continuing. Yay!**_

_**Enjoy the new chapter!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

It wasn't too long after I sent John on his way that George and Pattie showed back up.

"That didn't take long," I said when they showed up in the door way.

Pattie shook her head. I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but it didn't seen too good.

"Where's John?" George asked, looking around the room

"He left after you did," I said, looking up at him from the sofa where I was laying down.

"And Paul?" George asked.

"Left before John did," I shrugged.

"So you and John were here alone?"

"Briefly," I admitted, sitting up. "Why?"

"What'd you... Do?" He asked, choosing his words carefully.

I laughed. "Nothing, George. We just talked for a second and I sent him out. No worries."

"Fine," he huffed,sulking off to his room.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked Pattie.

She laughed and sat down beside me.

"He was expecting to find John here so he could yell at him."

"He set in doin' that, huh?"

"It seems that way."

We sat in silence. Pattie was going to say something, or so I thought, but she didn't say anything.

"Soo..." I said, trying to break the silence.

"What?" She asked.

"I don't know! What do you want?"

"Why would I want something?"

"Not something, exactly. You want to know something... Or else you'd be off with George, I'm pretty sure."

"Well... What's up with you and John?"

"Nothing. I mean- there is- I just- I don't really know, to be honest."

"You didn't talk about it?" She asked.

I shook my head.

"What'd you do? Everyone left so you could talk. You did know that, right?"

"Yes I did know that. We talked... But it didn't really accomplish anything. I got frustrated so I made him leave," I shrugged.

"Why?"

"I didn't feel like arguing, so I made him leave. I'm not dealing with something if I don't feel like it."

"Oh. Ok." She thought for a second, concentrating on the wall on the other side of the room.

"Anything else?" I asked.

There was. Of course there was. There always was.

"So, about Paul..." She said.

"Why?" I asked. "Why now?"

"Better now than never," Pattie said.

"Fine. Say what you want then. I'm listening."

"You sure don't sound happy about it."

"I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because... Because... I don't know. I'm just mad at Paul!"

"Do you even understand why you're mad at him?" She questioned.

"I-uh- no," I admitted.

"Ok then. Listen to me, she ordered.

I did. I listened to her tell about her visit to Paul's house. About what he said happened with Melissa. About how he's still in love with me...

"Why the hell are you telling me this now?" I demanded.

"You needed to know," she said.

"But now? Why now? Why not later? Huh? Now is- now just isn't a good time!"

"You were going to find out one way or another, trust me, and this is better than something else happening... I'm pretty sure he was going to tell you himself-one way or another.

Dammit Pattie. You always have to go and screw with my mind. Why do you always do that?

"It's not going to change anything", I told her after yelling at her in my mind.

"That's your decision. I just wanted to tell you and see how you felt about that- about him, too."

"You can guess my feelings on both subjects," I said coldly.

"Like I said: your decision. I'm gonna go check on George."

She left me sitting on the sofa. Alone with my thoughts. When she was sitting here, I was sure that I was mad at Paul. I didn't care what he felt- or said he did. He'd upset me and I wasn't going to deal with that now. I was going to move on. But then I got to thinking, and it all started making sense. Why else would he sound worried or concerned when I accidentally misdial the phone and call him (which happened quite often with me, but I never realised why) he was actually worried about me. I don't know why I ever thought he wasn't. And- everything. Everything he'd done made sense now.

Damn you, Pattie, for bringing this up. And Damn you, Paul, for- for being Paul and telling Pattie this. And damn you, mind, for even thinking about this. It just makes it more complicated. Great.

* * *

(Pattie's P.O.V)

I'd walked into George's room to see he'd pulled off his shirt before passing out on his bed. He needed rest. He'd been acting like an overprotective father to Laynee and hadn't slept much the past week or two. I kept telling him she'd be fine. She's just as old as I am. He responded with "but she's almost a year younger."

But he really cared about Laynee. Maybe it was to make up for the years of neglect she'd spent in America with her own family. From what he'd told me about it, she was all but forgotten at home after her father died, unless her mother, step siblings, or step father wanted anything. Sort of like Cinderella. They treated her badly. Especially Stella because Stella was jealous of her. And Stella's jealousy is what led to Laynee being here.

So I guess George just wants to make up for that. Which is good, but he's taking it too seriously. Laynee's got to live a little.

Before curling up next to George and taking a nap myself, I decided to make a quick phone call.

I picked up the phone, dialled the number, and waited.

"Hello?" The person on the other end said.

"Hey, Paul," I said.

"Laynee?"

"No, Pattie. Do I really sound like her over the phone?"

"No, y' don't. Hi Pattie. What dy'a need?"

"I told Laynee," I said simply, getting the point across quickly.

"What?! Why?" He demanded.

"It was either me or you, and it's better I did it. You know that just as well as I do."

I knew Paul well enough to know that he was going to be sure Laynee knew, and he didn't care how she found out. As long as she knew, so it was best for me to tell her.

"True..." He said. "Well... Thanks. I guess."

"Bye, Paul."

"Bye Pattie... Hey!"

"Yeah?"

"What did she say?"

I laughed.

"Goodbye, Paul."

"But-"

"You'll find out soon enough. I'm sure. Goodbye."

"Bye."

I waited for him to hang up the phone- in case he had anything else to say- then hung up mine. I then went and laid down beside George.

"Pattie?" George mumbled, half asleep as he wrapped his arm around me.

"Yes," I smiled.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I said before he could fall asleep again.


	34. Chapter 34

_**A/N: New chapter! Out already? Yes! (Exam days are very boring when the exam is easy, and you only have one, so I had plenty of time to write.) Well, after tomorrow I'll be on summer vacation, so I'll work on chapters as much as possible, but I'll only be able to post them when I get Internet (no Internet most the summer is going to kill me! All my friends are on the Internet!) anyway, just wanted to let you know. Please, enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)

Within a week or two the fuss about the picture on the magazine had died down. Everyone either believed the story that it wasn't me, or they just didn't care anymore. I was thankful for either. What also seemed to calm down, for the most part, was Valerie. Either I didn't have to deal with her – she was usually on the other side of the café – or I wouldn't give her the chance to say anything. She'd open her mouth to speak and I would either speak over her or make annoying sounds until she shut up. It was more than satisfying for me. She defiantly hated me now, but I didn't care.  
Like I said, she finally calmed down. For the most part. One day, or evening, I guess, after work John, as usual, came to pick me up. I wasn't the only person there. I was off a little earlier than usual – a new weekly thing Stephen started, so each person gets off early some time during the week. I was thankful I didn't have to stay and lock up again. Even if John was always waiting outside the door, the streets were still creepy in the dark. But Stephen trusted me, so I had the spare key and I was the one to lock up on the nights he decided to go home early.  
There were still a handful of girls who worked with me there, one of those being Valerie. I'd seen, through the big shop-front window, John drive up. I was grabbing my coat and cleaning up the remainder of the things on the table I was sitting at when John walked in.  
"I'm here!" He announced loudly as he stepped through the door. I looked up from the table I was cleaning at the girls' faces around me. The looks they held showed pure excitement. They couldn't believe that John Lennon was actually standing in the shop where they worked at, looking as cute as ever with his black cap pulled over his ears. I laughed.  
I was pushing my chair under the table when I heard Valerie speak.  
"Hey, Johnny! Long time no see!" I turned to look at her. She was smiling at John, doing her best at flirting, and he just stood there looking slightly uncomfortable.  
"Uh, yeah," he said, taking a slight step back.  
I stopped to watch them, as did everybody else in the café.  
"I missed you," she said, stepping forward and running her fingers through his hair, getting too close for my liking.  
"I think it's time to go," I announced, stepping across the café and grabbing John's hand, pulling him out of the café.  
I let go of his hand as soon as we made it outside and I climbed into the car. Most of the ride home was silent. When we were almost there John slowed down the car.  
"Laynee…" he said, glancing over each other.  
"What?"  
"Are you all right?"  
"No."  
"What's wrong with you, then?!" He asked. He obviously didn't understand.  
"Really?" I looked over at him  
He pulled the car over to the side of the road. I could see George's house from where we sat in the car.  
"Laynee, I'm sorry about Valerie. I couldn't do anything-"  
"Yes you could have! You could have stopped her! You could have walked away!  
"I-I didn't think!"  
"Obviously."  
"Laynee."  
"Why do you keep saying my name? I'm the only person who is here for you to talk to! I know who you're speaking to!" I snapped out of frustration.  
He rolled his eyes and continued on.  
"You know I love you, right?" He asked.  
"You keep saying that.  
"Well I mean it," he said, leaning in to kiss me. I stopped him.  
"What?" He protested.  
"I told you before that you're not going to solve all of your problems and stop all of our arguments just by kissing me!"  
"What do you want-"  
I cut him off from saying any more by kissing him myself.  
"I thought you said…"  
"So? That didn't mean I didn't want to kiss you. I just wanted you to know that you can't solve all of your problems by kissing me."  
"What?" he was confused.  
"Just shut up and take me home," I ordered him, smiling at him.  
It wasn't long before he pulled into the driveway. I kissed John once more before saying goodbye, but he stopped me by grabbing my hand before I could open the door.  
"When are you going to tell him- George- about us?" He asked, still holding my hand.  
"I don't know," I said quietly.  
"Why not?"  
"What do you think he's gonna do if he finds out, John? You know just as well as I do what is more than likely going to happen."  
"He'll have to get over it sooner or later. I don't like having to sit in my car to talk to you."  
"Yeah, but..."  
"He's gonna find out sooner or later. Secrets don't stay secrets for long. You know that."  
I did know that. I know that too well.  
"Fine then. What do you want to do?" I asked him.  
"Let's go inside," he smiled at me.  
"Alright," I gulped.  
John was obviously not concerned with it, but I was worried. George has a temper, everybody knows that. John knows it first hand. I didn't want to see how George was going to react. The thought was terrifying. And what would George do to me? Sure, he wouldn't hurt me, but there are more ways than pain to punish people.  
John opened the door and called George's name rather loudly. He liked to do that- walk in and yell instead of saying hello, or even knocking.  
George appeared from the direction of the music room. When he say John and me standing there- side by side, fingers intertwined- his eyes narrowed.  
"What do you want, Lennon?" He asked coldly.  
"I've got something to tell you," John announced.  
I looked down at the floor, or my feet, or both. I didn't want to see George's face when he heard.  
"What is it?"  
I chanced a glance at George. By the look he was wearing, he'd already figured it out.  
"Laynee and I are dating. And we have been for quite some time now," he told George as if it were nothing. "Just thought you should know."  
I was waiting for the expected response from George. Waiting for him to do something. Anything! But he didn't. He just stood there, glowering at John.  
"Yeah, that's it. I gotta go now, so..." He pulled me in for a long kiss, leaving me breathless. He did it just to spite George. "Bye." He finished what he was saying and slipped out the door.  
And he was gone. I couldn't believe that he was going to tell George then just run! Leaving me alone with George. Thanks, John, thanks.  
Once again I expected George to say something, but after staring at me in disapproval for a good long while he went back to the music room.  
I was sure George's reaction was going to be terrifying, but instead his lack of reaction was scaring me.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
We'd planned to be in the studio all day. We'd made the plans a while back. When everybody was getting along. But by the way everything was going, we would probably go home early.  
I'd gotten there early. I was setting up the instruments and what-not when John came in. He didn't say a word. He was acting a bit weird. All he did was sit down in one of the chairs and star scribbling on a piece of paper. Maybe he was writing something- song lyrics perhaps, or music. Or maybe he was drawing. I didn't know. He wasn't talking. Ringo showed up later than we'd planned on starting. He apologised for being late, looked around, noticed George still wasn't there, sat down beside me, and started asking questions about some of the songs. Finally, after who-knows how long, George showed up looking like he just rolled out of bed and hungry. Or maybe he was just in a sour mood.  
"You all right, mate?" I asked  
He looked over at John, who looked up and gave him a cheeky grin, before turning back to me and saying "I'm fine."  
"You sure?"  
"Let's just get on with it!" He snapped.  
And we did. Or we tried. John and George were constantly arguing. About every little thing. If John breathed in the wrong place George would say something. Point it out. Cause a problem.  
"Why don't we take a break, boys," George Martin suggested.  
We all decided a break would be a good idea. John stepped outside. George and Ringo stayed in the studio, along with me.  
"George, what's going on?" I asked.  
George didn't answer. He just sat there and lit a cigarette.  
Ringo looked at him.  
"It's got something to do with John, obviously."  
George barely nodded.  
"John..." I muttered, trying to figure out what it could be. "John..." Then it struck me: "Laynee!"  
George's face twisted to a mask of pure rage.  
"Wait!" Ringo said. "Y'mean you found out about Laynee and John?"  
"So they've made it official then, huh?" I muttered. George knew now. That means everybody can know. And there goes all of my chances.  
"You knew?" George asked. "You both knew and you didn't tell me?!" His voice raised to a shout.  
"Yeah, we knew, but-"  
"Why didn't you tell me?! You both lied to me! I knew something was going on! I knew it!"  
"George, calm down!" Ringo said.  
"No! You both knew! Who else knew? Huh? Pattie?"  
Ringo and I both nodded.  
"Of course! Of course she did! So how about about Maureen? She knew too, huh? I guess so since Ringo knew!" He put out the cigarette he was smoking and three it into the ash tray.  
"Why were you all determined to keep it a secret from me?" He asked.  
"We knew what your reaction would be," Ringo said.  
"And what would that reaction be?" George asked through clenched teeth.  
"Exactly what it is now," Ringo replied.  
"So how did hiding it help...?"  
I was slowly fading away from te conversation. I was lost in my own thoughts. Thoughts about Laynee. I realised that now that Laynee and John are... Known, then they won't mind... Publicly displaying their affection, I guess I could say... I already have to deal with the fact that she was over me. Now I get to have it rubbed in my face. And that's nothing to get excited about.


	35. Chapter 35

_**A/N: Here's chapter 35! Hope you like it! It may be a little longer before I get the next chapter posted. I'll be busy the next couple of days. (like tomorrow I'll be going to see Paul McCartney! I'm so excited!) so I'm not gonna keep up with my chapter a day/ every other day. **_

_**But enjoy this chapter!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
I stepped out of the studio to take a 'break' as George Martin suggested. I wasn't about to stay inside. Harrison obviously wanted to rip my head off- or something to that effect. Last night when we told him- Laynee and I, I mean- about us he didn't do anything. Or he didn't do anything while I was there. But if he wanted to take it out on me in the studio- well, two can play at that game. I can act just the way he was. I was acting just the way he was. I didn't care. He was overreacting- and acting childish about it. It's not like I was going to do anything to Laynee. Nothing she didn't want me to do, at least.  
I was looking out at the crowded road when George Martin came up behind me.  
"John, you can, uh, go home now. We'll finish up later."  
"Uh, ok." I said.  
I went back inside to pick up my notebook just as George Harrison stormed out- obviously angrier than he had been earlier.  
"What's gotten into him?" I asked.  
"It shouldn't be too hard for you to figure out," Paul muttered as he passed me to go out the door.

* * *

(Pattie's P.O.V)  
"George... George... George! Would you put down the guitar and listen to me when I'm talking to you?!" I snapped.  
He'd called me and asked me to come over as soon as I could. He said it was important.  
"I thought you were at the studio," I said over the phone.  
"Just come over to the house," he demanded. "Soon."  
Naturally, I got there as quickly as possible. When I'd gotten there I just let myself inside. George was sitting on the sofa, legs criss-crossed, playing guitar. I sat down beside him, but he didn't say anything.  
"Hello there," I said after I'd sat there in silence for too long.  
"Hi," he said. It wasn't a friendly greeting. It was more like a kid saying hi because his mother told him he needed to be nice.  
He didn't say anything else. Once again it was silent.  
"What did you want me here for?" I finally asked. Silence. He just played his guitar.  
"George."  
Silence. Guitar.  
"George."  
Silence. Guitar.  
"George! Would you put down the guitar and listen to me when I'm talking to you?!"  
He finally stopped playing and looked up at me.  
"What?"  
"What? What?! You call me here, tell me it's important, ignore me when I get here, and now you're acting like you don't know why I'm here! What is wrong with you?"  
"You knew," he said, putting down his guitar.  
"Knew what?" What was he talking about?  
"You knew about Laynee and John," he clarified.  
"Oh, that? Yeah. I did know," I said. "So?"  
"And you didn't tell me?"  
"George, I don't have to tell you everything."  
"Well this is something I'd like to have known sooner!"  
"Look, Laynee trusted me not to tell you, so I didn't. It's a girl thing, so I'm sorry if you just don't understand."  
"But Paul and Ringo knew!"  
"Because John told them!" I exclaimed.  
Well, John told Ringo, I think. I told Paul myself... Whatever.  
"We'll I don't appreciate that, Pattie. I like to be informed of things that go on with my family."  
"She's 19, George. She can make her own decisions."  
"She's still too young-"  
"She's not your child, George!" I cut him off. "She should be more like your sister. In which case, you need to talk to her. Yourself. Talk instead of just telling her what to do like you always do. That might help."  
"She doesn't want to talk."  
"How do you know? Have you tried actually talking to her?"  
He sat quietly, thinking about that.  
"She still won't tell me anything," he finally said.  
"She doesn't have to. That's her choice. But you have to let her know you're there if he needs you, and that you'll be willing to listen to what's going on."  
"How would you know?" He asked.  
"Experience with my own family, George."  
"I don't see how it's going to help," George shook his head, picking up his guitar.  
"So you're not going to listen to me?" I asked.  
"I just told you, I don't see how it's going to help this current... Situation. She's not going to talk."  
"Fine. Ignore what I've told you. Next time, if you're going to be this difficult, then don't even bother calling me. She might not want to talk, but you don't want to listen," I said as I stood up.  
"Sorry I wasted your time," he said as he started to play his guitar again.  
I left without saying goodbye.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Work was horrible for me the next day. I tried, but I couldn't keep Valerie to keep her stupid little mouth shut, but she wasn't having that. She'd enjoyed my anger the night before and she wasn't going to let me hear the end of it.  
"You should have seen the look on your face!" She laughed when the cafe was, for the most part, empty. There was an elderly lady sitting at a small table near the window.  
"Would you drop it?" I asked then left to take the old lady her coffee.  
"No, I won't," she smirked when I came back. "Because you were worried, and that means you still view me as a threat."  
"I do not!" I protested.  
"Yes you do! Everyone can tell!" She looked around at the other girls working. Some looked away quickly, others nodded, agreeing with Valerie.  
"And, Laynee, what if I decide I want John back?"  
"You won't get him," I growled.  
The other girls who were working with us stopped working completely. They instead began to gather around us, watching and listening.  
"But Laynee, I always get what I want," she smiled.  
"Things change, Valerie."  
"Oh Laynee, you poor, poor child. You don't get it, do you?" She started laughing.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"I'm talking about John. He doesn't really love you. No matter how many times he tells you he does he doesn't. He'll keep it up until someone better comes along. Someone else to keep him satisfied."  
"That's not true!"  
"But it is. And when it does he'll drop you just as fast as Paul did. Because nobody actually loves you!"  
That was it. I couldn't take her anymore. She was on the other side of the counter, but that didn't stop me. I jumped at her and began hitting her- I didn't care how hard or where I was hitting her at- until someone pulled me back. I tried to swing them off, but they wouldn't let me go.  
I looked up at Valerie. There was blood streaming from her nose and her face was bruised.  
"What is wrong with you?" She shrieked.  
I jumped at her, or tried to, but once again I was held back.  
"Laynee, calm down!" The person holding me back said. I turned to see who it was- it was Stephen.  
He drug me into his office and sat me down.  
"Laynee, what's gotten into you?" He demanded.  
"Can I just go home right now? I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said.  
He looked at me for a second, then agreed to let me go, as long as he walked me to the door, afraid of me attacking Valerie again.  
"I'm sorry, Stephen," I said when I'd made it out the door.  
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said.  
"Thanks."  
I left the cafe and soon found myself standing at John's door, crying. I knocked on the door.  
He came to the door quickly.  
"Laynee, what's wrong?" He asked.  
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.  
"Laynee, what is wrong with you?" He asked when I pulled back.  
"Do you really love me?" I asked.  
"What? Why wouldn't I?"  
"Valerie said-"  
He cut me off, this time, by kissing me again.  
"Don't listen to her Laynee. Just don't... Wait... What're you doing here? I thought you had work."  
"And I thought you were supposed to be in the studio today." I pointed out.  
"And you still stopped by?"  
"I was being hopeful."  
"Come inside. George doesn't have to know you're home early. Now why are you home early?" He asked again.  
I did go inside, and I spent the rest of the afternoon telling him about what happened.


	36. Chapter 36

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter! This one is extremely long (compared to my others, this is long) This chapter may get you thinking WTF!? And some of it is poorly written, but it's a new chapter. I kind of had a lot of stuff on my mind when writing this, and i think that everything sort of for shoved into one chapter, so I'm sorry if this is kind of a rushed chapter, because that's how it feels to me. **_

_**Anyway! New chapter! Longer! Enjoy!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
I was more than shocked when Laynee showed up at my door in the middle of the day.  
"Laynee, what's wrong?" I asked when I opened the door and saw her standing there.  
She was suddenly kissing me- and I was kissing her. I wanted to know what was wrong, but I could wait.  
"Laynee, what is wrong with you?" I asked her when she pulled back and looked up at me.  
"Do you really love me?" She asked.  
"What? Why wouldn't I?" Where in the world would she get an idea like that.  
"Valerie said-" that's all I needed to hear. It was Valerie. Valerie was causing her problems.  
I didn't let her finish what she was saying. I didn't want to hear it. I kissed her again.  
"Don't listen to her Laynee. Just don't... Wait... What're you doing here? I thought you had work." I could understand her having issues with Valerie, but what was she doing not in work?  
"And I thought you were supposed to be in the studio today." Touché.  
"And you still stopped by?" I smiled.  
"I was being hopeful." She smiled back at me.  
"Come inside. George doesn't have to know you're home early. Now why are you home early?" I asked her.  
"Well..." She said following me inside.  
"We'll what?" I asked. I sat down, pulling her into my lap.  
"I, uh, tried to, um... Kill Valerie..." She said.  
"What?" I laughed. "You tried to kill her?"  
"I mean I kind of went all George on her. She set me off... I think-I hope- I broke her nose..."  
"You are related to George," I laughed.  
"That's what I keep telling people."  
After talking she ended up drifting off to sleep as I played with her hair. I looked down at her sleeping face. I lightly kissed her forehead then her nose then her lips, not sure if I actually wanted to wake her up or not. I moved on to kiss every inch of her I could manage. I wasn't trying to wake her, so when she stirred I stopped.  
"What're you doing?" She mumbled.  
"Nothing," I said.  
"Why'd you stop?" She asked, pulling my lips back to hers.  
That's how we spent the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
"Ok, Laynee, I've got a proposition for you," Stephen said, walking out of his office.  
"Anything," I said.  
"Ok. You can't work with Valerie, can you?" He asked.  
"Not unless you want a dead body on your hands," I replied. I was going to do anything I needed to to get rid of Valerie. Or do anything about her. I needed something done. Her not being at work today was one thing- she was hurt, but the thought of what was going to happen when she got back was driving me crazy. Insane. Lunatic. Something needed to be done.  
He smiled a strange creepy smile. It made me a but uncomfortable.  
"I will get rid of her- no more working with you- bye bye Valerie-"  
He saw my eyes light up.  
"If-"  
If. Great. An if.  
"If you go out with me tonight."  
"What? No!" I exclaimed.  
"C'mon, Laynee, do you want to keep your job or not?" Stephen asked.  
I did want to keep my job. It was, before Valerie showed up, the best way to keep my mind off of things. But now-a-days it's what I needed my mind off of-and that's where John comes in.  
"I just don't know..." I said, biting my thumb nail. I was alone with Stephen at the cafe. It was past closing time and he'd asked me to help stay and clean up-and to talk about the incident with Valerie and I.I'd gladly agreed. John Paul and Ringo were going to be at the house for something. The longer I avoided them the easier it'd be for me. This morning I was going to call John and ask him if he'd take me to work. Instead I misdialled and called Paul. We were both a bit confused about the call. What made it even worse was before he hung up the phone he said quietly "I love you, Laynee." And I'm not sure how you could sound any more sincere over a telephone. I hung up the phone quickly and wanted to scream. I'd almost gotten Paul out of my mind. I'd almost forgotten that Pattie'd told me he still loved me. I was so sure about John- or I thought I was. I didn't want to see Paul and John in the same place any time soon. I also didn't want to see George and John in the same place. I was shocked they even agreed to meet at George's house for whatever they're doing. That didn't seem safe, considering what John said happened at the studio the day before.  
"You 'just don't know' if you want to keep your job or not?" He asked stepping closer to me.  
I was starting to feel even more uncomfortable.  
"I want to keep my job, but-"  
"Then you'll go with me," he concluded.  
"But-"  
"It's settled. You want your job and to be rid of Valerie, I want to take you out, both things are going to happen," he finalised that argument.  
"Why a sudden urge to go out with me?" I asked.  
"It's not a sudden urge," he said as he brought his face right up to mine. "I've wanted to take you out since I hired you."  
I didn't want to go out with him. He was almost ten years older than me, and I didn't like the way he acted around the other girls who worked at the cafe- a right creep. And his creep vibe was really strong now. I was just desperate to get rid of Valerie.  
"Oh..." Was all I could say as I took a step back.  
"I'll pick you up at seven," he smiled his usual creep of a smile.  
"Here, please. Not my house. George wouldn't let me walk out the front door with John, much less you."  
"Fine. Here. Seven. I'll see you here or you'll say bye bye to your job."  
"I know."  
"Dress nicely," he ordered.  
Then he left, leaving me to lock up. I stood where I was for a while longer. What had I just gotten myself into? There wasn't much guessing about where Stephen went on the weekends. Guessing from the smell of alcohol on his breath when he got into my face just then, tonight was going to be a fun one for me. Damn me and my mind and it's total determination to have a certain person gone.  
I finally left the cafe and locked the door before heading down the road to get home. I'd checked the clock before I left- 5:30. That gave me a little time to change out of my work uniform. Then head right back, hopefully avoiding any conversation with anybody.  
I haven't talked to Paul in person in a long time. I didn't want to change that. And John, well, after talking to Paul this morning I didn't want to see both of them together. Seeing both of them would drive me insane. I liked my job. I needed my job. It kept me sane.  
I slipped in the back door, hoping I'd not draw much attention to myself. I quickly went to my room and pulled out of my closet the dress I was planning on wearing. I'd thought about it as I was walking home. My dress collection was slowly growing. Slowly, but surely growing. This dress was a little above knee length. It was an orange-ish pink with little black polka dots across the fabric. I had a pair of black heels I slipped on, and I did light makeup. No, I didn't want to be going, but since I was going out I was going to look nice. I was told I had to look nice.  
When I finished getting ready I tried to sneak out but was stopped by a voice in the other room.  
"Where are you goin' all dolled up like that?" George asked right when I'd made it to the back door.  
"Out," I responded. I didn't want to tell him. He'd never let me leave. I needed my job.  
"Where?" He demanded. I sauntered in to where everyone was sitting.  
When I stepped in the doorway I felt the eyes on me. John and Paul's. I just wished I could leave. John gave me a questioning look, but I looked away quickly. He wouldn't understand. He didn't. He doesn't get that Valerie is slowly killing my mind.  
"Just out. Can't I have a life? Please."  
"What is up with you?" George asked, noticing my fidgeting.  
"Nothing. Just let me go," I whined.  
The clock was getting close to seven. I needed to go. I'd lose my job. I needed my job.  
He looked at me doubtfully.  
"I'll tell you when I get back. I'm going to be late."  
He then looked at John who gave him a shrug, indicating he didn't know what I was doing.  
"You're acting weird," Ringo commented.  
"I just need to go!" I shouted.  
With a little more persuasion he agreed to let me go. I quickly slipped out the door and headed fast as I could back to the cafe. It wasn't long before I heard a car pull up behind me.  
"You need a ride somewhere? You look like your in a hurry."  
It was John. He didn't ask where I was heading or why. He just asked if I needed a ride. I stopped for only a second.  
"I'm almost there already. But thanks."  
"Y'sure?"  
"Yeah." I could see the cafe from where I was.  
"Y'alright, Laynee?" He asked me. In the darkness I could see the worry on his face.  
"I'm great. Fine. Dandy. Gotta go."  
Soon he left and I made it to my destination, five minutes to spare. I slipped inside the cafe that had be reopened. Not actually opened, just unlocked. Stephen waited for me at one of the tables.  
"I thought you weren't going to show." He said slowly. He was already drunk. Wonderful. I don't see him for an hour and a half and he's already drunk.  
"I care about my job," I assured him. "Even if it isn't a very good one."  
"So you don't like your job?" He asked, looking me over with his greedy eyes.  
"No, no. I do. It just isn't the greatest job a girl could have."  
"Oh, I could think of a few jobs you'd be better at. Trust me."  
I shouldn't have come. I should have stayed at home. Lost the job. I could find another one. But I didn't stay home, and now he had my arm and was pulling me towards the door.  
"Where are we going?" I asked.  
He named one of the bars that was close by. I should have guessed. There was still a chance of escape, right?  
Stephen sat down at a small table in a dark corner of the building.  
"Stay here. Don't move. I'll be back in just a minute."  
I stayed. I didn't move. I was freaking out even more. What the hell was I doing here?! My senses started coming back to me. I didn't need the job. I didn't. I could just leave. But I couldn't. Stephen was back, placing a drink in front of me.  
"Drink," he ordered.  
"I'm not thirsty," I replied. I was in no mood to drink alcohol right now.  
"I don't care if you're thirsty or not. I bought you the damn drink and you're gonna dink it!" He grabbed the front of my dress and pulled my face up to his.  
"So drink it."  
He shoved me back down into my seat with alarming force. He pushed the drink closer to me.  
He finished off his drink as I sat there and looked at mine. He grew more and more impatient as didn't make a move to even touch mine.  
"Are you going to drink it?!" He asked.  
"I don't want-" I started to say, but he suddenly grabbed the drink and grabbed my face, and holding my mouth open he poured the drink down my throat.  
I coughed and sputtered and shoved him away.  
"I told you you were going to drink it. Now finish it." I obeyed, although I couldn't stand the taste.  
"Happy?" I asked, placing down the empty drink down in front of me.  
"Very," he smiled, looking down at his watch.  
"So what are we supposed to do on this 'date'?" I asked.  
"We can talk for a bit," he smiled.  
"About what?"  
"How about you and that boyfriend of yours, Laynee?"  
"That's an unusual topic for a date," I commented.  
"What does he think about...this?" He asked, reaching across the table and grabbing my hand.  
I pulled my hand away.  
"He doesn't know," I admitted.  
"That's perfect." His smile widened.  
"Why?" I asked. Suddenly everything started getting all blurry. Stephen noticed something happening and whipped around the table and pulled me up. He said my name once.  
"Whhaat?" I whined. Everything was slipping away.  
Consciousness was slipping farther and farther from me. My name was called again, but it seemed far off, but after that I can't remember.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
I left George's house shortly after John. We'd actually gotten more done than in the studio, which was good, but then Laynee came in. That stopped us in the middle of progress. George John (and I) were all worried about her. She wasn't acting like herself. She was acting weird. I can't really explain it.  
When I left I had Laynee on my mind for sure. She's been ever since the morning where I'd goofed up and told her I loved her. I said it. I meant it. But it shouldn't have left my mouth. I couldn't believe I'd said that. And now Laynee was going out. Not with me (that's for sure) and no with John, which was shocking.  
The thought of her, everything about her, ate at my mind like a disease. I needed to do something about it.  
I needed a drink.  
I decided to stop at the nearest bar. I sat down at the bar and ordered my drink when I heard some kind of commotion over in the corner. I looked to see what was going on. I couldn't tell. It was dark there. By the looks of it, a guy was drunk and taking it out on his girlfriend. Some guys, I swear, they're quieted down, but shortly after that I heard a chair hit the floor. I turned again. This time the couple had moved into the light. The guy looked familiar- he looked like that guy Laynee worked for. I shrugged it off. I wasn't worried. He wasn't any of my business. I bought another drink and sat thinking- about Laynee.  
I didn't worry about that man and the girl he was with until I heard him exclaim loudly: "Dammit Laynee!"  
My head snapped around to see the man shoving the girl against the wall, forcing himself on her. At first she tried to shove him off (for what was probably the second or third time) but after a second she stopped fighting. She sort of went limp, like she'd passed out or something.  
It was unmistakable who the girl was, which meant that the man was a concern of mine.  
"Laynee!" I called out, jumping out of my seat and rushing over to where they were.  
"What're you doing?" I asked the guy. I don't know why I asked. It was obvious- he was trying to have his way with Laynee, and I wasn't about to have that.  
I pushed the guy back away from Laynee and she hit the floor. She wasn't conscious. I reared back and nailed the guy in the eye, yelling obscenities at him. Finally, somehow, he disappeared and found myself carrying Laynee out of the bar, into my car, and for some reason the first place I thought taking her was my house. I don't know why, but that was the first I thought of going.  
When I got to my house I took her inside. Her dress was ruined, beer-stained and ripped. I felt a bit weird doing it, but I changed her out of her dress and into clothes of mine. If she's not going to wake up I wasn't going to let her lay there in that mess.  
So that's where she went. She went out to a bar with some creep. By the looks of if the guy's drugged her to... Have his way with her. It didn't really make that much sense to me, but I'd have to wait until she woke up to ask her.  
I'd laid her down in my bed, and every so often I'd go in to check on her. She looked so peaceful as she lay there, but I knew that there was something not very peaceful going on with her.


	37. Chapter 37

_**A/N: new chapter! Not at all one I like, so let me know what you think about it. I need to know! **_

**_Anyway, enjoy!_**

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
My eyes snapped open. I looked around me. Where the hell was I? I was in a bed. Somewhere. I didn't know where. I sat up, grabbing my head because it was throbbing, and looked around again. I slipped out of the bed and realised I wasn't wearing my dress anymore. I was in someone else clothes- a mans, and they didn't fit right. I noticed that when the jeans almost slipped off when I stood up.  
I walked out of the bedroom and suddenly realised where I was- I was at Paul's house. What was I doing here? And what the hell happened last night?  
Paul was asleep on the sofa, curled up like he didn't mean to fall asleep there. I looked at the clock- it was only 7 in the morning. I didn't want to wake him up, but I also wanted to know what was going on. I walked over to the sofa, sat down at his feet. I shook him.  
"Paul, wake up," I said, shaking him harder when he didn't move the first time.  
"Whu- oh! Laynee!" He said sitting up quickly.  
"Are you alright, Laynee?" He asked looking at me.  
"Yeah. A little sore for some reason, head hurts, extremely confused..."  
"I'd expect so," he said, scooting closer to me.  
"Where's my dress?" I asked. He looked at me wearing his clothes.  
"It was ruined- ripped and stained. I just- I just threw it away. I hope that's alright."  
"Um yeah. I guess that's fine... Paul?"  
"Yeah?" He said looking at me. The look he was giving me was a strange one, but I'd seen the look before.  
"What the hell happened last night? Why am I here?" My voice started to sound a bit panic-y, but I was starting to freak out.  
I was trying to recall what happened, but I couldn't pull any bit of information from my mind.  
He explained to me everything he'd seen, and what he'd expected had happened.  
When he finished I just sat there, wide eyed. Stephen. It was him. That's why he hired me. The sole purpose of me having that job. That's what those girls were talking about. And that means he's done this to all of those girls there- or almost all of them.  
"Laynee, are you alright?" Paul asked, looking at me, worried. My dazed, far away look scared him.  
"Stephen..." I said. "He... He..." I didn't finish what I was saying. I just stopped talking.  
"Laynee, has he done anything else to you?"  
"No." I shook my head slowly.  
"Paul," I said looking at him.  
"Yes?"  
"He- he tried to... And me... Again!" I began to cry.  
"Again?"  
"Yes, again, Paul! That's how I ended up here- with George- don't you remember?!" I was getting more panic-y sounding.  
"It almost happened again, Paul. Again!"  
"Laynee, that's not your fault-"  
"Oh, but this time it was. I shouldn't have gone with him, put myself in that situation. I just wanted Valerie gone!" I began crying even harder.  
He pulled me into a hug.  
"Laynee, don't blame yourself. You didn't know."  
"But I did know- I realised before he'd come back with the drink... He forced me to drink it... And then I don't remember... But I knew Paul!" I said, looking up at him. His arms were still rapped around me  
"Laynee..." The look in his eyes was more than familiar. It reminded me of a time all those months ago: 'Laynee, I just wanted to-'  
And just like the first time, he kissed me. It was like the first time he kissed me, we were sitting in the same places and everything. It was rather strange.  
I shouldn't be doing this. I'm dating John. Paul and I are over. I shouldn't be doing this... But I need him. Right now I need him...  
To both mine and Paul's surprise I kissed him back. Just like the first time, I wrapped my arms around his neck. But this time I didn't stop- until, that is Paul stopped. I was no longer sitting beside him. I was pulled oddly into his lap now.  
"Laynee, calm down," he ordered.  
"But-"  
"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."  
"Don't apologise, Paul. I was actively participating," I said as I moved myself back to the spot beside him.  
"But you shouldn't be, Laynee. You shouldn't even be here."  
"But you brought me here! What are you talking about?" I demanded.  
"Laynee, you've got John now. I know that. I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm sorry."  
"What? But- what?" What was wrong with him? He was acting a bit strange. He was completely right, but he was acting strange.  
"You need to getting back to George's house. He's probably worried about you," he said.  
I agreed. With everything he'd said. He shouldn't have kissed me- I shouldn't have kissed him back. I've got John. John loves me, and here I was, making out with my ex. And George would be worried about me. I'd been gone for over 12 hours.

* * *

(George's P.O.V)  
I didn't sleep well at all. Laynee hadn't called home, and I expected the worst. I also expected her to be over at John's, and I didn't want to stir anything up so late at night, so I didn't bother actually checking. I at least expected her home by time I got up. But no Laynee. I decided now I would call John.  
"Hello?" He asked after the phone rang a couple of times.  
"Have you seen Laynee?" I asked.  
"Have you lost her?" He asked, still sounding a bit groggy from being woken up by the phone.  
"If you haven't got her I have!"  
"No. I haven't seen her since right after I left your house. She was walkin' somewhere."  
"Where?" So Laynee was missing!  
"I don't know. I didn't bother asking her. Why d'ya suppose she's not back yet?"  
"I don't know John. She's been gone since before 7 yesterday. It's almost 8 now. I thought she'd be with you."  
"She's not."  
"I know that!" I growled.  
Luckily the door opened then and in stepped Laynee. And Paul.  
"Never mind. She's home," I said before hanging up the phone.  
"Where the hell have you been?" I asked her, looking over at Paul.  
"Erm... That's a bit of a long story, and I don't really know it... So Paul has to tell you...  
I don't know why, but I knew this story couldn't be good. At all.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
I explained what happened at the bar to George. What I heard and saw. Why she was at my house- things like that. But not what happened not too long ago...  
George wasn't mad- not just mad. He was enraged. Livid with anger. He began yelling- not at us but at Laynee's boss. At Stephen. He was so mad he picked up the closest thing he had to him and threw it across the room. It was a tea cup, and it shattered to pieces when it hit the far wall.  
When he got through yelling at Stephen, who wasn't there, he turned to me.  
"And why'd you take her to your house?!" He exclaimed. "Why couldn't you just bring her here? Any reasonable person would do that! Just seems a bit odd you take her to your house after she's been drugged!"  
This comment resulted in a shocked glance from Laynee.  
"George, nothing happened, ok. I brought her home."  
"But something almost did happen!" He yelled.  
He then continued on and began yelling at Laynee for it. Yelled at her for leaving without telling where they're at. He said she shouldn't have gone out with anybody, no matter how desperately you want someone gone. He went on and on. Laynee just sat there, crying. George had never yelled at her- ever, and it seemed like he was yelling about more than just last night.  
I wanted desperately to wrap Laynee in a hug like I did before I kissed her. I wanted to kiss her again, but I knew I couldn't. I told her I couldn't. She knew now, and although it may seem a bit weird that I'm just giving up always remember: If you truly love someone then let them go. That's what I was doing to Laynee now- letting her go, no matter how badly it hurt me  
George was going to far. Laynee was curled up, crying loudly. I know George was angry, but he'd gone to far. I stopped him, calmed him down.  
"Laynee, I'm sorry," George said.  
"Where's Pattie?" She asked George.  
"Coming any minute, he replied.  
"Good," Laynee sniffled. "I need her."


	38. Chapter 38

_**A/N: New chapter! Yay! Sorry it took so long. I've been owing no internet. Hope you enjoy!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
George calls me and tells me Laynee missing. It's obvious that the first thing I'm going to do is head to his house- see if he's found her yet- then head on my way to find her.  
Lucky for me, the search was cut short because when I got to George's house she was there- sitting in a corner of the room, curled up in a ball, crying. (And boy, was she crying!) And then there George, who was sitting on the sofa glaring at Laynee and every so often at Paul- who was cleaning up glass off of the floor on the wall opposite the sofa. But neither one of them were trying to comfort Laynee. They weren't doing anything to help the poor hysterical girl sitting in the corner.  
"Did I come at a bad time?" I asked after surveying the scene. George turned and glared at me, Paul shook his head in a sort of apologetic way, and Laynee was suddenly in my arms, still crying.  
"Laynee, shhh. Calm down," I said as I kissed the too of her head and wrapped my arms around her.  
"What happened?" I asked, turning to Paul and George.  
"We should probably wait until Pattie gets here. I don't want to have to explain more than I have to," Paul replied, taking the broken glass pieces and throwing them away.  
Laynee didn't seem to be paying any attention to what was going on. She just stood there, holding on to me like she was never going to see me again, crying the entire time.  
I pulled her out of the room for just a second- I only needed a second and some privacy with her.  
"Laynee," I said, lifting her face to look at mine. "I love you. You know that right?"  
She nodded.  
"And you know that I'll always love you, no matter what, right?"  
She paused for a second then nodded again.  
"And you know I will personally murder anyone who has done anything to hurt you, right?"  
She nodded again, but not before starting to cry again.  
"Just checking," I said before kissing here.  
The front door then opened and in came Pattie.  
"Is Laynee alright?" Was the first thing out of her mouth when she stepped through the door.  
"Alright- I guess," Laynee said in between sobs.  
"Can we hear what happened now?" I asked, leading Laynee to the end of the sofa where George wasn't sitting. She sat down beside me but sort of curled up at my side, hiding her face in my shoulder.  
I rubbed her back absentmindedly as Paul began to tell Pattie and I what had happened. I tried listening to the story without saying anything- despite my rising anger. I didn't want to upset Laynee any more than she already was. Certain parts of the story would set Paul and George off to fighting, causing Laynee to cover her ears with her hands, trying to block out the noise, and Pattie yelling at them, telling them to shut up.  
It took all I had not to voice what I had to say, though. I'd seen Stephen, maybe even met him once. He never seemed like a good guy, but never a bad guy either. But when Paul was talking about how Laynee'd said Stephen'd probably done something of the sort to all the girls who worked there, that made me mad. He'd done it before, and nobody'd done anything about it. This man...  
"I'm gonna kill him!" I suddenly shouted.  
"What? No!" Laynee exclaimed.  
"Why shouldn't I? I have every right to murder the guy. Every one of us has the right to!"  
"Don't!" Laynee said. "You can't!"  
"I'm gonna do something about him, Laynee. I'm sorry if you don't want me to, but he's gonna pay, one way or another."  
"Isn't a black eye from Paul enough?" She asked. She was seriously upset over the fact I was going to do something.  
"No. That's nowhere near enough! Have you ever been punched by Paul?- No, no you haven't. But he punches like a girl!"  
"Hey!" Paul protested.  
"Well you do. So, Laynee, a black eye from Paul isn't enough- if the punch even gave him a black eye!"  
"But-" Laynee started to say something, but Pattie stopped her.  
"Hey, Laynee, why don't we head to your room while the boys talk this out, huh?"  
Laynee nodded in agreement and went to get up. I kissed her before letting her go. I sat there watching the two disappear into Laynee's room.

(Pattie's P.O.V)  
Laynee was starting to really freak out now. I don't know what was going through her head at the moment, but for some reason the thought of John going out and doing something really set her off for some reason.  
"Laynee... Laynee, are you ok?" I asked her.  
She just sat there and stared at the empty wall across from her bed- the wall that used to have the baby crib and what-not. She didn't respond to the question.  
"Pattie," she finally spoke, but she didn't turn her eyes from the empty wall.  
"Yeah?"  
"Where's my baby?" She asked.  
"What are you talking about,Laynee? You don't have a baby..."  
"But- but I did, didn't I?" She asked, as serious as she could be. "I remember... Stella's boyfriend he- he did things... And then I ended up pregnant... And then I came here because my mother... And then everything... But I know I was pregnant. I was... Where's the crib and everything?" She kept rambling on and on.  
"Laynee- Laynee stop!" I shouted. She looked at me.  
"Laynee, don't you remember?" I asked her. "You were pregnant, but Mark and Stella came when the boys were away..."  
"They killed my baby!" Laynee exclaimed. "Mark attacked me..." She continued rambling on and on.  
"Laynee!" I shouted, shaking her shoulders. "Snap out of it!"  
She ignored me.  
"Pattie- Pattie would you stop shaking me?" She asked. She didn't sound so dazed or confused anymore.  
"Are you alright now?" I asked.  
"Kinda..."  
"Uh, what just happened with you, Laynee?"  
"I don't know. I don't really know what was going on," she said.  
"Do you need to get some sleep or something?" I asked, unsure of what to do for her.  
"I wouldn't be able to sleep," she shook her head. "I need to talk."  
"About what?"  
"Everything."  
"Well, shoot."  
"I'm sorry- about that whole freak out thing. I honestly don't know what happened. George yelling kinda scared me, I guess. I don't know what really happened after that..."  
"It's fine Laynee. I'll talk to George later. Now I know that's not what you want to talk about."  
"No. It isn't," she admitted.  
"Soo... What happened last night, then?" I asked when she didn't make a move to say what she wanted to talk about.  
"Stephen just told me he'd let me keep my job and get rid of Valerie if I went out with him. I didn't really want to do it, but I figured it wouldn't be bad. Anything to get rid of Valerie, y'know." Her voice cracked a little and a tear streamed down her face. "I went. I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I shouldn't have." She stopped again, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath and continued. "We went to a bar. I was gonna get out- I thought about it, but Stephen came back with two drinks. He wanted me to drink mine. I didn't know why, and I didn't want to drink it, but he forced me to. He poured it down my throat. Paul can tell you what happened after that. I don't remember. And then- this morning."  
"What happened this morning?" I asked.  
"When I woke up this morning I was at Paul's house. He'd been asleep on the sofa when I woke up. He'd explained what he'd seen happen. That's when I first started to freak I guess..." She stopped again.  
"And then what happened?" I prompted her.  
"And then... And then Paul kissed me."  
"Oh. Well that's not good," I said.  
"And I may or may not have kissed him back. And I may or may not have liked it..."  
"Uh, that's not good."  
"I know it's not, Pattie! I know! I couldn't help it."  
"So what're you gonna do about it?" I asked.  
"I don't know! I was hoping you'd know what to do!"  
"How about you just get some sleep, Laynee, you need it. You think about it and I'll think about it, and I'll talk to you tomorrow, ok?" I said. I wasn't exactly sure what I should tell her. Maybe she was still just overreacting about something... I don't know.  
"Fine," she grumbled. "It's still early."  
"Just go to sleep. I know it's only in the afternoon, but sleep. It'll be alright."  
"Fine," she said again as she climbed under her covers.  
Good. She was going to sleep and I was going to see if I could figure out any better about what was going on. I needed to talk to George, I said I would. And Paul, again, to see what Laynee was talking about. Poor girl.


	39. Chapter 39

_**A/N: it's my birthday! Yay!**_

_**Anyway, new chapter! I wrote these this past week. Not really sure what exactly is in this one. I numbered them so I could post them in order without looking... Anyway, enjoy**_

(Paul's P.O.V)  
Laynee and Pattie went of to Laynee's room. George and John and I talked about what happened, yelled, argued, and nothing much more was accomplished.  
There'd been brief shouting coming from Laynee's room, and not to very long after that Pattie came out alone.  
"Where's Laynee?" John asked.  
"She jumped out the window," Pattie said sarcastically. Then she rolled her eyes. "She's in her room, where else would she be?"  
"What is she doing in her room?" Once again it was John asking.  
"Sleeping, or she should be sleeping," Pattie replied as she went and sat down beside George.  
"Why?"  
"Why are you asking so many questions, John? She's sleeping because she needs sleep. She was freakin out. I didn't know what else to do, so I told her to go to sleep. She should feel better tomorrow- or later today- or whenever she wakes up."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah. And you, Mr. Harrison," she said pointing a finger into George's chest. "I need to talk with you."  
"About what?" He asked.  
"About Laynee."  
"Oh, ok. Do they need to, uh, go?" George asked, pointing to John and I.  
"Oh no. I need to you too," Pattie pointed to me.  
"Me? Why?" I asked.  
"I'll tell you then, but first you, George."  
"Ok."  
"What the hell were you thinking yelling at Laynee as soon as she got home? She was already upset when she got here! You sure as hell didn't help that!"  
"I-I wasn't thinking," George said, looking a bit ashamed.  
"You bet you weren't thinking, George. You didn't see her a few minutes ago. She wanted to know where her baby was, George. She didn't remember what had happened. She scared me George, she really did."  
"Is she ok now?" John asked.  
"I guess. She was when I left her. But she said you," she pointed to George, "scared her. Just... Next time something happens don't yell at her. I agree with what you've said before: she's still just a child. Things have moved too fast for her. Take it easy on her next time. I've never seen anybody like that before."  
"I'm sorry," George said, hanging his head.  
"Yeah, just... Don't do it again."  
"I didn't mean to, Pattie. I was just... Angry," George said.  
"I know. Like I said, don't do it again." Pattie kissed him lightly then turned to me.  
"Now, Paul, I need you to come with me," Pattie said.  
"So we don't get to hear his conversation?" John asked jokingly.  
"No. This is a different conversation. Neither of you need to hear," she said as she led me outside.  
"Why are we outside?" I asked her.  
"So nobody will be tempted to listen in."  
"But people out here can listen," I pointed out.  
"Oh sure, but they don't know enough- or care."  
"Alright then. So what did you want to talk about?" I asked as we began to walk down the street.  
"Laynee," she said.  
"Again?"  
"Yes again! You seem to be a problem for her now."  
"What do you mean 'a problem for her'?" I asked, not exactly following what she was talking about.  
"She told me about what happened with you two earlier."  
"Oh. That..."  
"Yeah, that. And now, thanks to you, she's all confused. She's not sure what she should do. And it's your fault, you know that, right?"  
"I know," I said. "I didn't meant to. I just- just couldn't help it."  
"You men and your sudden urges. Y'know, one day you're going to have one of those urges and end up doing something you'll regret later."  
"I wouldn't to Laynee!" I protested, stopping where I stood.  
"You say you wouldn't, Paul, but sometimes people do things they wouldn't normally do." She looked up at me. "And maybe it won't be you who does something to Laynee. And she might not protest."  
"Ok, stop!" I said. I didn't want to hear that. Ever. "Why are you telling me this?"  
"I dunno. I just wanted to let you know that. Laynee's funny like that."  
"I know," I said as I continued walking. "I sorta noticed that this morning."  
"Yeah which you shouldn't have."  
"I know, but I told you, I can't help it sometimes, Pattie. I know that if I don't I may never get to again." She just didn't understand. Maybe I didn't understand myself.  
"If it's meant to be, Paul it will be. I just want you to know that."  
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Let's head back," I suggested.

(John's P.O.V)  
George and I sitting in a room talking didn't last very long. It just so happened that every time George said he was going to kill me (or something to that effect) was brought to his mind, and he wasn't in too happy a mood. Thankfully, instead of deciding to kill me now he sulked off to another part of the house. I took the opportunity to sneak into Laynee's room. She wasn't asleep yet.  
"John?" She said.  
"Yes, love?"  
"I'm sorry."  
"Don't be sorry, love. It's not your fault."  
"I'm still sorry," she whispered.  
I'd ended up kneeling beside her bed. I kissed her lips gently.  
"Will you please stay?" She asked, grabbing my hand.  
"Of course I will, love."  
I ended up crawling into the bed with her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She finally fell asleep, her head resting on my shoulder.  
Some time later Pattie poked her head through the door. I looked over at her and brought my finger to my lips, letting her know Laynee was sleeping.  
Eventually, I fell asleep myself, my head resting on hers.

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I woke up later that day- or that evening, I'm not sure- wrapped in John's arms. It felt nice.  
At first I couldn't remember how he'd gotten there, but then it came to me.  
He'd walked into my room, trying his best to be quiet.  
"John?"  
"Yes, love?" he asked. I comforted me to hear his voice.  
"I'm sorry," I said.  
"Don't be sorry, love, it's not your fault."  
But he didn't understand what I was talking about. I wasn't talking about what happened with Stephen. Why would I apologise for that? I was apologising for what happened with Paul.  
"I'm still sorry," I said quietly.  
He kneeled down beside my bed and kissed me. That comforting feeling spread.  
"Will you please stay?" I asked, grabbing his hand. Please stay now. As long as I need you...  
"Of course, love."  
He'd climbed into the bed with me and I fell asleep enjoying his embrace.  
But now I was awake. I didn't exactly want to be awake. I wanted to go back to sleep, make this moment last forever. No worries, no stress, just me and John. But that's not how it really was. There was Stephen, angry and unsatisfied. There was John George and Paul who all swore revenge. There was the fact that I was out of a job- and out of a way to keep my mind clear, but that had been taken away when Valerie showed up, right? There was Valerie who hates me and knows where I live- and where my boyfriend, her ex, lives. And then there was Paul. Sweet as he is sometimes, he really screwed with my mind. I mean, why did I break up with him? Not because I stopped loving him or he stopped loving me. Not because we'd decided it'd be better if we were just friends. No, it was because of Melissa. And now that I think about it, I might still have feelings for Paul.  
Ugh! But I can't! I just can't! I loved John. I was happy with him. I can't just leave him like that. Paul upset me a lot when I saw him and Melissa. But then again, John did the same thing with Valerie. But I wasn't dating either one of them then, so it doesn't count, does it? Oh, I don't know!  
I went to run my fingers through my hair, something I did sometimes when I got stressed out, but the movement ended up waking John up.  
"Sorry," I whispered.  
He smiled at me.  
"Don't be sorry, love. I wanted to be awake when you were."  
"Good. I was wondering how long I'd have to lay here, looking at the wall," I joked.  
"Well, you should have woken me up sooner."  
"I didn't think about it."  
"Of course you didn't," he said, bringing my head up closer to his and he kissed me. I don't know what it was about this kiss, but for some reason it was different. Maybe it was just me, or maybe him, I don't know. But there was something about this...  
"Do I have to get up now?" I asked when he pulled back.  
"Not if you don't want to," he smiled.  
"Well I don't," I said.  
He laughed.  
"Then don't."  
"I won't."  
"Good."  
"I know."  
He laughed again.  
We spent the next who-knows-how-long just laying there, talking, laughing and what-not. I didn't feel like getting up, but I knew I had to eventually.


	40. Chapter 40

_**A/N: Chapter 40! What? Well this is the last chapter I've pre-written, so it may be a bit longer until I post a new one. Today I'm not rushing out trying to do something, so this A/N is a bit longer, as you can tell... Anyway, I'm not going to ramble on about my day... Enjoy... Oh, and I just want to say I have no clue where the story is going... At all... So now, enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Eventually Pattie came into the room to check on me.  
"I thought I heard someone laughing."  
I had been laughing, and I guess I'd been laughing rather loudly. John had been telling me stories about his days at school. The stories weren't all that funny themselves, but the way he was telling them, voices and all, was killing me.  
"Oh, hello there, Pattie, fancy meeting you here," John said in the voice he'd been using for one of his female teacher.  
That set off in laughter all over again.  
"What're you doing?" Pattie asked.  
"Telling stories," John said in the same voice.  
"It sounds like you're tickling her or something," Pattie laughed.  
I glared at her and tried to discreetly tell her to keep quiet. Not only was I ticklish, I was extremely ticklish, and it was, at times it was embarrassing.  
"Oh-ho! You're ticklish, are you?" John asked, this time in his normal voice. He sat up and looked at me excitedly.  
"No!" I exclaimed, sitting up myself, "And lets not try to prove me wrong."  
"Aw, but c'mon!" John said, moving in to tickle me, forgetting that Pattie was standing there.  
"How about you try to prove her wrong some other time. There are some people wanting to see Laynee, and they sent me here to get her.  
"Good!" I said, quickly climbing out of the bed.  
"Fine," John grumbled, following Pattie and I out of the room.  
"There she is!" George said. "And there... He is... What were you doing in her room?"  
"Oh, you know," he looked at George and waggled his eyebrows.  
"Don't listen to him!" I said, hitting John up side the head. "We were taking a nap. That's all."  
"You take all the fun out of it!" John whined.  
"Oh well," I said, sitting down on the floor. John sat down beside me.  
George, Pattie, Paul, and some guy I'd never seem before were sitting on the sofa. Ringo and Maureen were sitting in chair they'd brought in from the kitchen.  
"Uh, hello there..." I said looking around at everybody.  
"You ok, Laynee?" Ringo asked.  
"Oh yeah, I'm dandy," I smiled at him. "Uh..." I looked at the man I didn't know. "I don't mean to be rude, but who's that?" I asked.  
"You've lived forever and you've never met the man, the legend, Brian Epstein?" Ringo asked. "He's our manager," he added.  
"I know who he is, Ringo. I just didn't know that he," I motioned towards Brian, "was who it was." I then turned to Brian. "Nice to meet you!" I leaned forward and shook his hand. "So, what brings everyone here today, or tonight, I guess, since it's so late?" I asked.  
"Well you do, Laynee, of course," Brian said.  
"And how so?"  
"The boys and I, apart from John who was in there with you," he looked over at John, "and we've decided- they've decided- that they want you to come with them wherever they go," Brian said.  
"Even to, like, the studio and all that?" John asked.  
"That's what the boys want."  
"I don't want to get in the way of anything. I'll be fine," I said.  
"You won't be in the way," Paul insisted.  
"Yeah, you can hang with me. I don't do much anyway," Ringo said.  
"I don't have to get a new job AND I get to hang out with Ringo? What more could you ask for?" I joked.  
"Now I'll have you know, I won't have you interfering with the boys and their work. No interruptions, no distractions, nothing. You will just be there to give the boys peace at mind. I won't have you-"  
"Brian, she gets it," Paul said.  
"This is just so we can keep an eye on you, y'know, keep you safe," George said.  
"And what if I don't feel like going with you one day?" I asked, just being curious.  
"Then you can stay with Pattie, or Maureen if you like, but that's only if they're able to that day," George said.  
"Wow, you've sure thought this out," I laughed.  
"Well, we don't want any more... Incidents to happen, now do we?" Brian asked with a bit of a forced smile.  
I sat thinking about it for a second. If this isn't enjoyable it'll be more like prison than protection. I can't go anywhere or do anything on my own. Of course, George was like that sometimes. Overprotective. That's just him. Sometimes.  
"Now you know," Brain said, standing up. "I best be going. Nice meeting you," he nodded his head towards me.  
"Same to you," I said. "Why have I never met him?" I asked when Brian had left the house.  
"Never asked," Ringo said.  
"No need," Paul said.  
"Well he seemed... Nice," I said.  
"Sure," John sort of laughed.  
"So you know you've got to get up early to come in to the studio tomorrow, right?" George said.  
I gave a pleading look to Pattie and Maureen, but they both said they had work. Damn.  
"Do I have to?" I asked.  
"Yes, you do," George said.  
"I'm offended, you don't want to come to work with me," John said, grabbing my hand.  
"She just doesn't want to hang out with me, that's all. I see how it is," Ringo said, pouting in a joking manor.  
"It's not that," I said. "I just don't want to get up early. I've been asleep almost all day. I'm not going to go to sleep until late tonight- or early tomorrow morning- so what makes you think I'll want to go to work with you guys so early in the morning?" I asked.  
"The fact that you'll be hanging out with me," Ringo said.  
"Oh, of course. That brightens my outlook so much. Thank you, Ringo."  
"My pleasure," he said.


	41. Chapter 41

_**A/N: Here's a new chapter. It's a little longer than usual since I'm gonna be gone for a while with no Internet. I'm going to go crazy... If I do you'll have to excuse the weird chapters, but that hasn't happened. I hope you do enjoy this chapter, even if it does seem a bit odd. I'm not really sure what was going through my mind as I was writing this... But oh well. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
The next morning George had to pretty much drag me out of bed.  
"Why is it you can get up before I do to go to work, but when I want- no, need- you to get up you won't?" He asked as he pulled my blanket off and threw it on the floor.  
"Because I wanted to get up then!" I moaned as I pulled my pillow on top of my head to try and block out his voice and the light.  
"Laynee! Get out of bed! We need to go!" He said, pulling the pillow off of my head and throwing it on the floor too.  
"I don't want to go!" I whined.  
"Why not?" He asked.  
"I dunno. I just don't want to!" I said, laying there and looking up at him. I wasn't about to tell him I didn't want to see Paul- not after telling Pattie what happened. It would be too weird. And I didn't want to accidentally say or do anything incredibly stupid in front of John.  
"C'mon now, Laynee. I'm gonna be late!"  
"Then go!"  
"I can't just leave you!"  
"I'll be fine!"  
"But I promised I wouldn't leave you alone!"  
We went back and forth like this for a while.  
"I'm gonna be late," he said again and finally left the room.  
I got out of bed to grab my pillow and blanket off the floor and laid back in bed, thinking I'd won that argument. It was a good long while before I heard anything else. I was dozing back to sleep when someone came in my room and slammed the door. My eyes snapped open to see John standing there.  
"Are you coming or not, Laynee?" He asked me.  
"Where's George?"  
"He left and sent me. You're holding up work. We should have started half an hour ago."  
"I'm not going," I said defiantly.  
He shook his head, grinning.  
"If you don't get up I might just have to tickle you. I haven't had a chance to try that yet..." He smiled at me.  
When he said that I quickly rolled off the other side of my bed and on to the floor, getting as far away from him as possible.  
"No need for that!"  
"You sure?"  
I picked up my pillow to use as a shield if needed and nodded quickly.  
"You're not being any fun!" He laughed.  
"I'm gonna go change. You stay right where you are."  
He was far enough from my closet and door that I should be safe going around him. I quickly-and safely- got my clothes, but as I headed towards the door he grabbed my arm. I was sure I was in for it, but instead he spun me around and kissed me.  
"Go get ready then, and hurry up. I want to get there as soon as possible. I do have work to do."  
He kissed me again and I got dressed as quickly as humanly possible.  
Despite my efforts, they still started almost two hours late. It wasn't exactly my fault. Half an hour for George to decide to get John, half an hour for me to get dressed- that's an hour. The other hour was thanks to John who insisted driving as slow as possible because I hate slow driving. He wanted to irritate me. None the less, Brian wasn't happy.  
"We can't just start late because you don't feel like getting out of bed, Laynee. We've lost good time thanks to you. I'm not going to take it!"  
"Oh, of course not, Brian. It won't ever happen again. I promise," I said, rolling my eyes.  
"It better not," he warned.  
"Of course not."  
Ringo, who had been standing there, laughed at me as Brian walked away.  
"So what do you do around here?" I asked.  
"Nothin' much when they don't need me in there." He motioned towards where John Paul and George were 'working' or whatever they called it.  
"So you're just here, huh?" I asked.  
"Pretty much, and now you are too. I usually play cards or chess or something. But no one around here much enjoys that. Especially since I'm so good," he smiled.  
"So you play chess, huh?"  
"And I'm good," he said again. "D'you play?"  
"Never even seen a chess board," I admitted.  
"I'm shocked at you! I thought you were pretty gear, but now? I don't know if I can talk to you any more." He made a move to walk away, but I grabbed his shoulder.  
"Hey! It's not my fault that nobody I know plays chess!" I defended myself.  
"But you know me," he pointed out. "And I know how to play. I'm good."  
"Well, let's keep bragging, why don't we?" I rolled my eyes.  
"Ey, but I am good!"  
"Well, Mr. Chess Master Ringo man sir, will you honour me with teaching me how to play chess?" I asked him.  
"I thought you'd never ask!" He exclaimed. "Of course I'll teach you!"  
Ringo began teaching me- or attempting to teach me- how to play chess. It wasn't going so well.  
"Check mate. Again," Ringo said.  
"Wait! What was that? How can that piece move all the way across the board?"  
"I told you it could at the beginning, remember?"  
"No! I don't remember. That was three hours ago! And you keep beating me in three moves, so no chance to see you use that piece! Dammit Ringo, I'm not learning! I thought you supposed to be teaching me, not beating me like a drum!" I complained.  
"What can I say? I'm a drummer."  
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."  
"What're you doing?" A voice said from behind. When I turned to see who it was I saw it was Paul. Oh great.  
"I'm teaching Laynee how to play chess. We've been at it for 3 hours." He lowered his voice a bit. "She's a horrible learner."  
I hit his shoulder.  
"You're just a bad teacher!"  
"Not my fault you can't listen."  
"Not my fault you just want to remain 'chess master.'"  
"But I'm good at it!"  
"So you've said. But I've only ever seen you beat me. Which isn't much of an accomplishment."  
"Are you questioning my skills?"  
"Are you questioning me about questions your skills?"  
"So you are questioning my skills!"  
"Oh yes, I am."  
"Will you both stop!" Paul said, laughing a bit. I'd forgotten he was there.  
"Sorry," Ringo and I said at the same time.  
"Maybe you've spent too much time together."  
Ringo and I looked at each other, smiling.  
"No, we haven't," we said in unison. Paul shook his head.  
"We're going to get food if you two are interested."  
I noticed Paul kept looking at me, but only when he thought I didn't notice. The look in his eyes... I wonder if he talked to Pattie like she said she was going to...  
"Food? Is it free?" I asked.  
"I'll pay for you, sure," he offered.  
"That'd be nice." I smiled at him and he looked away quickly. Yeah, Pattie did talk to him...  
"Are you coming or not?" Ringo asked, standing up and heading towards the door.  
"We're coming, 'chess master'l  
"Don't doubt me, Laynee. I will prove myself!"  
"Uh-huh. Sure."

* * *

(John's P.O.V)  
Work in the studio was about as productive as watching grass grow. Paul (for some reason) and I were both worried about Laynee. George didn't seem to care. He kept getting frustrated because we were so distracted.  
"She's not at home. She's here, with us, she's safe," he'd say.  
Sure, she wasn't at home by herself. She wasn't at work with some creep. She was safe. She was off with Ringo... But now that I think about it that may be a bit dangerous. Leaving anything with Ringo was dangerous...  
Paul was more than eager to leave the room to go get Ringo and Laynee when we decided we needed a lunch break. I stepped outside to wait for them. When they did appear, with George following behind, Ringo and Laynee were arguing about chess.  
"Do you not believe I'm good?" Ringo asked.  
" I know you're better than me, but that isn't saying much."  
"Just be thankful I'm teaching you. You could have gone clueless the rest of your life."  
"Calm it you too!" I said.  
They both looked at me.  
"She doesn't think I'm good at chess, though!" Ringo explained.  
"I have no reason to believe."  
I stopped Ringo before he could say anything else.  
"Let's save that for later," I said as I wrapped my arm around Laynee's waist. "Much later." I pulled her closer and kissed her.  
I kissed her partly because I wanted to and partly because I wanted to see the look on Paul's face. (It was pure jealously, just so you know!) It was more than obvious that he still had feeling for Laynee. I didn't know how strong those feeling were, but what I did know was something has recently stirred up those feelings and made them stronger. And I wasn't about to have that. I wasn't going to let Paul have Laynee back. She was mine. He lost out on that one.  
I knew Laynee wouldn't just up and leave me, but the way she was talking and joking with Paul, even him paying for her meal, worried me. I needed to talk to her. Immediately. Maybe she won't be too hungry and we can go out and talk for a bit. That'd be a good idea. Or maybe I'm just being paranoid...  
" I want ice-cream," Laynee said quietly, to nobody in particular.  
We'd been walking down the sidewalk to find somewhere to eat.  
"We can go get some now, if you want to go get some," I offered. Going to get ice-cream. That'd be a great time to talk to her.  
"I was just thinking out loud," Laynee shook her head. "Besides, weren't we about to get food?"  
"Yeah, but I'm sure if Paul's paying for you he'd be happy to buy you something and bring it back to the studio, wouldn't you, Paul." I clapped him on the shoulder.  
"Uh, yeah. I can do that." He glared at me. He'd been planning on getting to see Laynee, I'm sure.  
"Alright then, I guess we can go," she said.  
"Great," I smiled, grabbing her hand and walking away from Paul George and Ringo.  
We went into a cafe and she ordered her ice-cream. We sat down at a table as she ate it.  
"You aren't saying much," she commented looking at me. I smiled. She has the prettiest blue eyes.  
"Neither are you," I pointed out.  
"I'm eating," she said, smiling.  
"Good point."  
We sat in silence for a minute.  
"Why do you keep staring at me?" She asked.  
"I can't just look at the most beautiful girl in the world?"  
"Where?" She asked, looking around over her shoulder.  
"Ha-ha. I'm talking about you."  
"You're acting weird." She observed.  
"How so?"  
"You just are," she shrugged.  
"Can I talk to you?" I asked.  
"Sure. What's up?"  
We both got up and headed out the door. I took a second to figure out what exactly I was going to say.  
"What is going on with you?" She asked.  
I ignored her question. We continued to walk down the road, not going anywhere in particular. Just walking.  
"Hello, John, I thought you wanted to talk to me."  
"I do... Do you love me?" I asked her. I wasn't sure why I was asking her, but I felt the need to. She stopped walking and looked at me.  
"Why would you even ask that?"  
"I don't know... I was thinking..."  
"That I don't love you?"  
"No. Not really..." I had no clue what I was meaning to say.  
"Then what is it?"  
"Uh- well- you wouldn't... You wouldn't ever leave me, would you?"  
"What? Why are you asking me this?"  
"Would you?"  
"No, John, I wouldn't. I love you."  
"I love you too, Laynee. I was just... I was just making sure."  
We were still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but that didn't stop Laynee. She pulled my neck down closer to hers and she kissed me. Very passionately, if I might add. But she suddenly pulled back.  
"Aw shit," she muttered.  
"What is it?" I asked.  
She didn't say anything else. She just pointed across the street. I turned myself to see what it was. We just so happened to have stopped in front of the cafe Laynee used to work, and standing in the doorway was Stephen and Valerie. And they weren't too happy seeing her.  
"I think we oughtta go," she said, grabbing my hand and leading me back down the road, hoping Stephen and Valerie would stay where they were.


	42. Chapter 42

_**A/N: New chapter. Sooner than I expected. I was sitting at my grandma's house thinking, "I could review this chapter and make sure it's decent. OR I could just go ahead and post the chapter and work on a new one." So here I am. Posting this chapter despite the decency of the chapter. Y'know, this story is a lot longer than I was ever expecting it to be. It was just a story idea that I had and was gonna write it out in a short time and be done with it, but it's become my main entertainment. I have nothing to do? Write another chapter. I'm mad at someone? Write another chapter. I'm hungry but I'm too lazy to get up and go to the fridge? Write another chapter. No Internet for a week? Write a bunch of chapters. **_

_**Yeah... Anyway didn't mean to ramble on so much, I just felt like saying that. Anyway, ENJOY!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
When John had told me he needed to talk I had no clue what it could be he wanted to talk about. There was a number of thoughts going through my mind, but the one that screamed the loudest was "oh, god, he's gonna break up with me." I don't know why I thought he would, but the thought seemed to find its way into my mind and make a home for itself there. Luckily, the conversation he had with me was the complete opposite of what I was thinking. He thought I would want to break up with him. Maybe he was getting worried, or maybe he knew something I was hoping to keep a secret. I assured him I wasn't going to leave him and then I kissed him because the look on his face was still uncertain. I myself was enjoying the kiss, but I happened to notice, across the street, and all too familiar building with two all too familiar people standing in the doorway looking at us as if they were deciding when to come over to us. It was the cafe where, just two days ago, I'd had a job. The people happened to be Stephen, with a bandage across his nose, and Valerie, her black eye visible from across the street. They weren't happy, but I'm guessing Stephen'd be even worse if he'd seen Paul.  
"Aw shit," I'd muttered, pulling back from the kiss, when I'd seen Stephen and Valerie.  
"What is it?" He asked me. I couldn't say. I just pointed behind him towards the two people standing there. "I think we oughtta go," I said, grabbing John's hand and heading down the street as quickly as possible. I actually ended up running. I wanted to get back to the studio without having to deal with either of the two.  
When we got back inside the studio I shut the door, gasping for breath.  
"Where've you two been?" Brian asked when we came in the door.  
"What's wrong?" Paul asked us when he saw us.  
John held up a finger, telling Paul to give him a second to catch his breath.  
"Uh... Nothing," I said.  
"No, it's not nothing. What is it?" Paul said.  
Brian was giving me a look saying they didn't need to know. They needed to work.  
"I'll tell you later," I said.  
Paul, George, and this time Ringo, already went inside the studio room. John stayed behind for a second.  
"What was that about?" He asked.  
"Would you want to deal with those two right now? Because I don't," I told him.  
"Yeah, but why run?"  
"Hell, I don't know! I figured the quicker we got out of there the better," I shrugged.  
"Well you were acting like they were rabid animals," he said.  
"Maybe they are rabid."  
He laughed.  
"Ok, so they're not rabid animals, but they do know where I live."  
"Don't worry about, love."  
Brian cleared his throat rather loudly and told John to hurry up. John kissed me and then went into the studio room.  
I had nothing else to do so I went with Brian and George Martin to watch what they did. I didn't really get to watch much. Brian banned me to a corner, so I couldn't actually see anything. Not even the window leading into the studio, which would have amused me very much.  
Brian didn't like me. At all. And it didn't take much effort to see that. He told me that I was a distraction. He told me I took too much time from the boys that they needed to use for work on their music. He told me he didn't see the point in having me stay with the boys. I should know how to take care of myself. I shouldn't have to be babysat. I almost had a child myself so I shouldn't be acting like one. I should grow up and let the boys focus on their career. He continued on and on with his... Helpful insight, and he would have gone on longer, but I couldn't take it anymore.  
"Thank you, Brian, for those kind words, but if you wanted me to go somewhere else you should have just told me so," I said, my voice cracking a little bit as I stood up from my corner.  
"I wasn't trying to-"  
"Yes you were," I said. "You could have just told me to find somewhere else to go."  
I left the little room they were in and didn't make it far down the hallway before I just sat down in the floor and cried. There was one thing I couldn't take and that was talk like Brian was doing. I already knew I was rather useless now, but I didn't need someone there to remind me. I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do for John Paul George or Ringo. I was just there, causing problems. I didn't need Brian to bring it up.  
I sat there in the floor, thinking about what Brian had said. I don't know how long I had been sitting there or when I fell asleep, but I was awoken by John gently shaking my shoulders.  
"Laynee, you ok?" He asked.  
"Why wouldn't I be?"  
"I dunno. You're kinda just sprawled out in the middle of the hallway..."  
"I just fell asleep. Sorry."  
"But why were you in the hallway?"  
I sighed. I didn't want to have to explain it.  
"I just got bored so I came and sat down out here. I guess I fell asleep."  
"But you've been crying," he observed, rubbing gently at one of the dried tear marks on my face. "Why?"  
"It's nothing," I said.  
"It has to be something if it made you cry, Laynee. What is it?"  
"It's nothing!" I insisted.  
"You sure?" He asked.  
"Yes, I'm sure. If it was anything I'd tell you about eventually anyway, so don't worry."  
"How can I not worry about you Laynee. You're too important to me for me to just "not worry."  
"I'm glad I'm important to you," I smiled.  
"Why would you think you weren't?"  
"Oh, I dunno. Some people like to tell me that."  
"You're more than important to me Laynee," he said as he leaned in and kissed me.  
"Are you two coming?" Paul asked in a slightly irritated voice.  
"We're coming we're coming!" I said as John helped me stand up.


	43. Chapter 43

_**A/N: I just want to say, here is meh next chapter. A lot sooner than I thought it'd be, but I've had a lot going on (emotionally) so I've been using writing to get away... Also (a bit of a spoiler alert) as you can tell, I'm not good with writing happy chapters... And I can't go a long time without screwing some shit up- if you haven't noticed. So once again, I've screwed some shit up in this chapter... Oh and (defiantly a spoiler alert) sorry about Paul... I needed to do something Paul was just there... So yeah...**_

**_ENJOY! _**

(Paul's P.O.V)  
So maybe I thought I had some kind of chance left with Laynee. Pattie had told me what Laynee had said. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could get her back. Too bad John was in the way. I was going to buy her lunch, talk to her then. Hell, I was going to talk to her when I'd gone to go get her and Ringo to go to lunch, but they were going back and forth about chess or something. Then for lunch John took her away. I still bought her food, like John told me to, but I never gave it to her. I'd forgotten by time Laynee and John came running into the studio like they were being chased and Brian ushered us into the studio. I couldn't talk. I couldn't ask what was wrong. And after we finished, John was right by her side again. I know, hardly any time had passed since Pattie told me Laynee may still have feelings for me, but it doesn't take much time to gain hope. Hope that there may still be, no matter how small it may be, a chance for me and Laynee. And since there was hope of that chance, it took even more than usual to contain my jealousy when Laynee and John were constantly laughing, kissing, being happy... Don't get me wrong. I want Laynee to be happy, but when the girl you fancy is happy because your mate it kissing her, it's not a good feeling.  
Naturally, everybody was heading to George's house. That's where we usually ended up most of the time, what with Laynee being there and everything.  
Laynee and John were in John's car. Ringo rode with George in his car since Maureen had Ringo's car for the day. She was going to pick him up at George's house. I was alone in my car, daydreaming about the nonexistent relationship between Laynee and I.  
Laynee didn't look happy when she got out of John's car. She actually looked really upset. She slammed the door when she got out of the car, and she slammed the door when she got into the house. Ringo had been standing there, and he got the door slammed in his face.  
"What'd you do to her, mate?" Ringo asked John, looking quizzically at the door.  
"I'm not exactly sure," John said, shaking his head.  
"Well she's upset about something," Ringo pointed out.  
"I hadn't noticed," John replied sarcastically.  
"Women," George laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Nobody else laughed.  
John reached for the knob to open the door, but Laynee had locked it. John banged on the door with his fist.  
"C'mon, Laynee! Open the door!" He knocked even more. "Now you really are acting childish!" Laynee's face appeared in the window beside the door. She stuck her tongue out at John and she disapeared again.  
"Laynee! Open the damn door! Come on!"  
George let John go on like this for a while before he pulled out his on key and unlocked the door.  
"You could have said you had a key," John mumbled.  
"I don't know what you said or did to her, but be careful," George said before he opened the door.  
I couldn't tell if that was a threat or a warning- or both.  
Laynee had gone into her room by the time we'd gotten inside.  
John walked up to her door and tried talking her.  
"Laynee, what did I do?"  
"Go away."  
"C'mon, Laynee, I didn't mean anything!"  
"Yes you did. Go away."  
"No I did not! I was joking!"  
"I didn't need your 'joking' then, John, go away!"  
"But-"  
"Go away! Go home or something! Just leave ok!" Laynee yelled through the door.  
John huffed.  
"I'll be back later." He grabbed his car keys. "I've gotta go right now."  
When John left, George tried his hand at trying to talk to Laynee. He knocked on the door.  
"If you're John, go away. If you're not John, go away!"  
"It's George."  
"Go away."  
"Fine."  
George went to his room to make a call. Ringo had left shortly after John did. Maureen showed up and picked him up.  
I decided that it was now or never, so I tried to go talk to Laynee. Instead of knocking on the door and trying to talk through the door I went for the door knob, something no one else had tried. To my surprise it was unlocked, and Laynee's door swung open quietly.  
"Has that been unlocked this entire time?" I asked.  
She nodded. "Your just the only one who cared enough to try it."  
She was sitting cross-legged on her bed. She was bent over, furiously writing something down in a note book.  
"Did I, uh, interrupt something?" I asked.  
"Just me screaming my feelings into my diary," she laughed a humourless laugh.  
"That's what people are here for," I said, shutting her door and sitting down beside her on her bed.  
"That never seems to work," she sighed. "I can talk to Pattie, but I've learned recently that she can't keep her mouth shut. George is more like that parent you don't want to talk to. Ringo would listen, I know, but I don't want to bother him with it. And John would either not want to listen or not understand, and I'd rather not say anything than to have someone who doesn't understand listen."  
"You can talk to me, Laynee." I said. I almost reached for her hand, but I stopped myself.  
"You honestly think I could talk to you, Paul? Really?"  
"Why not?"  
"Paul, I'm sure Pattie's already gone and told you what I told her, right?"  
I nodded my head.  
"You see! How could I talk to go when you're part of my problem! Which is another reason I can't talk to John..."  
She shook her head. We sat silently for a minute. She looked down at her note book and I looked over at her. She looked up at me and sort of smiled before she slipped her hand into mine. I rubbed her fingers with my thumb.  
"I miss you sometimes, Paul. I do," she half whispered.  
"What happened with us, Laynee? Because I honestly don't know."  
"I dunno, Paul. Y'know, the only reason I suggested we date was because I was angry at John about Valerie. I was jealous." She told me.  
"That was the only reason?" I asked, slightly hurt.  
"It was at first, but then I realised that you really loved me, and I realised I might actually love you too. And I realise now that I did- and I might still." She shook her head as if to clear it.  
I didn't say anything. I just stared at her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then looked back up at me.  
"When Valerie left John I didn't care, because I knew I loved you. Before you all left for those promotional concerts, though, John'd come into my room and told me how much he loved me, too. I started to question myself then. Then you all left, and I didn't hear from any of you. I'd thought you'd all forgotten me."  
"We'd never do that!" I exclaimed.  
"I know. I know, but on top of you not writing that's when Mark and Stella showed up. And you know what happened then... And then at the hospital- you know what happened better than I do."  
"But that was Melissa, not me!"  
"Do you think I knew that. First I lose my baby, and then I see my boyfriend kissing some girl who'd been after him for a very long time. I was already upset! And that's when I started thinking more about John. When I saw you and Melissa kissing I wanted John to kiss me. I actually wanted him to. As far as I knew, you'd found someone better!" She stopped again. I didn't say anything this time.  
"And then I was ready to forgive you. I walked to your house- in the rain, mind you- and there was Melissa, leaving, and you, looking guilty- like you've just done something you shouldn't! And was I supposed to stop and ask what was happening? I was upset again! So I went to John. He'd always been able to comfort me."  
"All one big misunderstanding," I laughed.  
"Yeah, it was."  
I'd forgotten we were holding hands until she squeezed mine.  
"But now I have John- and he loves me too, Paul."  
"I know," I sighed.  
She brought my hand to her lips and kissed it before dropping it.  
I can't even begin to describe how badly I wanted to move in closer and kiss her- love her.  
I decided to change the subject.  
"Speaking of John, what was up with you two earlier?" I asked.  
"After lunch, earlier or after we got home, earlier?"  
"Both, I guess."  
"I guess they're both kind of stupid. John had been... Talking to me, and I'd happened to see Stephen and Valerie. So I got out of there as fast as I could. I ran. It was childish. Maybe Brian was right." She said the last part extremely quietly.  
"What about Brian?"  
"That goes into the next part... So I'd gone into the room with Brian and George Martin, but Brian stuck me into a corner then proceeded to tell me how much of a hassle I am. How useless I am. How I don't do anything. How I'm childish... John didn't mean anything by it, but part of what Brian had said John agreed with- especially the being childish part. Sure, it's all probably true, but I don't want to have it rubbed in my face. Especially by my boyfriend." A tear or two began to stream down her face, but I wiped the tears away with my thumb.  
"Thanks," she muttered. "So I got mad at him. It was childish and stupid, I know. But hell, I have a right to do what I want to sometimes."  
"That's right," I agreed. "You let people say what they want. You know the truth."  
"Thanks Paul, I needed that."  
I could tell by the look on her face and the way she was biting her lip that she was debating something. She seemed to study my face for a while before she closed the space between us and was kissing me. Even if it was only for a second, she kissed me. SHE kissed ME. Not the other way around.  
"I'm sorry. I know I just told you I had John, blah blah blah, you know that. I just wanted one last kiss from you." She said, looking down and playing with her fingers.  
"But Laynee, that wasn't a proper kiss." I was sure this wouldn't work, but I could hope. "I wasn't expecting it, and it was so short."  
I said these things as if there were actually rules for kissing. If there were, though, at the top it would say "don't kiss your best mates girl."  
She smiled at me. Any chances of talking myself out of it ended with that smile. That beautiful, perfect, happy smile.  
I tilted her chin towards me, she closed her eyes, waiting. I did hesitate for a second, but Laynee had no second thoughts. I finally crushed my lips against hers, and once again we were kissing. And we kissed like I've never kissed anyone before. I'm sure it would have lasted more than a measly minute if there hasn't have been a knock at the door and George calling out for one of us to answer the door.  
Laynee left me sitting on her bed, practically in shock, as she went to answer the door.  
I heard the door open.  
"Hi there, Laynee," a familiar voice. And then another familiar voice I never wanted to hear anywhere near Laynee.  
I jumped up in time to see Laynee try to shut the door, but I hand reached out and stopped it. A hand I'd seen all over Laynee not to long ago.  
"Not so fast, Laynee,"Stephen said.  
I stepped up beside Laynee, and without thinking I wrapped my arm around her waist.  
"Where'd Johnny go, Laynee?" Valerie asked in a sneering tone. "Did he finally leave you like you deserve?"  
I was about to say something, but Laynee did instead.  
"What are you doing here?" She asked.  
"I'm here to get what I've been wanting, sweetheart. She just showed me how to get here," he jerked a thumb towards Valerie. "But I'm sure she'll help me out." Stephen reached out for Laynee, but I pulled her back.  
"I'm glad it's just you two here. Otherwise this might actually be difficult."  
Stephen reared back his arm and nailed me right in the eye, startled, I stumbled back, tripping over the rug and hitting the ground. Stephen was walking towards Laynee, but she was backing up- until she ran into the wall, giving Stephen to do what he wanted. I jumped up, but Stephen turned quickly, hitting me in my face, stomach, anywhere he could, not giving me a chance to do anything, but throwing me to the ground when he knew I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything, but it gave Laynee a chance to run. She escaped Stephen, but Valerie grabbed her, pinning her arms behind her back.  
"George!" She screamed. "Georrrggeee!"  
Stephen was moving in closer, so from the floor where I was lying I reached out for his foot, possibly hoping to trip him up. That plan failed. He stomped on my hand, crushing it. I could hear the bones crunch. I jerked it back in pain, but the movement made me feel sick. I heard Laynee scream out George's name one more screeching time before everything went all black.


	44. Chapter 44

_**A/N: Here's a new chapter. There may be only one or two more chapters for a while seeing as I will not have Internet much after Friday. Thankfully I was able to pull 2 chapters out of this one, since it was soo long. Anyway, I just wanted to let everyone know that I'll be posting a few more chapters, but don't be worried about my sudden absence. I'll just not have Internet. So, enjoy this chapter (another will be posted tomorrow once I get it typed up!)**_

_**Enjoy!**_

(George's P.O.V)  
I'd been on the phone with Pattie. She couldn't come over, but she had time to talk on the phone. I was in my room- on the side of the house opposite the front door. I thought I'd heard knocking on the front door. I figured Laynee or Paul would get it, but they didn't, and the knocking grew louder and more persistent. I covered the mouthpiece of the phone so I wouldn't be yelling into Pattie's ear and I yelled for Laynee and Paul to answer the door. The knocking finally stopped and I continued on with my conversation with Pattie. Then I thought I heard someone call my name. I moved the phone away from my ear. Then I heard it again- Laynee screaming my name.  
"Hold on," I told Pattie before I sat the phone on the bed and ran out of my bedroom and into the hallway.  
From the hallway I saw Laynee, struggling against the grip of... Valerie? What the hell? Paul was lying on the floor, reaching out towards what seemed to be Laynee's old boss's foot- what the hell were they doing here? The guy- Stephen, I think his name is- stepped on Paul's hand. I ran back into my room and picked up the phone.  
"Pattie, call the police and send them my way. I gotta go." I hung up the phone before she could ask anything else.  
Laynee screamed my name again as I ran out of my room and down the hallway. I pulled Stephen away from Laynee- being careful not to step on Paul who was now just sprawled out on the floor, not moving. I threw Stephen back and slugged him one good time, square in the face.  
Laynee screamed and I turned from Stephen, who was feeling his nose an wiping away the blood flowing from it. Valerie had Laynee's arm pinned behind her back in an extremely painfully looking position, and she continually pushed her arms farther and father up her back. Laynee screamed again. I pried Valerie's fingers off of Laynee, hoping Stephen would stay preoccupied long enough while I was dealing with Valerie.  
Once Laynee was free of Valerie she went to run to somewhere safer. She went to run, but didn't make it far. When she turned to run she ended up tripping over Paul's motionless body. She fell to the ground and hit her head pretty hard on the floor. She crawled far enough so she wouldn't be right on top of Paul, rolled over to her back, closed her eyes and just cried. Stephen wiped more blood from his nose with his sleeve and started to step towards Laynee. I turned to Valerie, told her to stay put- which she surprisingly did- and went for Stephen.  
Stephen was grabbing Laynee's shirt, trying to pull Laynee off the floor. She was kicking, flailing her arms- well one of them, the other she was holding closely to her side, trying not to move it- and screaming. If she wouldn't have been in danger it might have actually looked comical.  
I pulled Stephen's hand off of Laynee's shirt and hit him again in the face. Unfortunately, when I removed Stephen's hand from Laynee's shirt she was halfway off the ground, and when he let go she hit the floor again, her head banging extra hard, and she was out. She didn't move again.  
"You know, you're really making this difficult!" He growled, wiping new blood from his nose. "And I think you've broken my nose you bastard!"  
"My pleasure," I said, standing protectively over Laynee.  
Stephen was about try something else, but at that moment, the door burst open. It was the police. Stephen and Valerie were more than shocked.  
Eventually, Stephen and Valerie were taken out in handcuffs. They tried to take me too, but it took a bit of explaining to convince them to let me go. Well, actually a lot of explaining, but I couldn't answer all of their questions. Only Laynee and Paul could do that. And they were lying on the ground, unconscious. The police left, leaving me to call ambulance. Thanks for the help, officer.  
I didn't know what to do with Paul and Laynee, so I left them just sitting there, and I awkwardly sat there on the sofa waiting for the ambulance to show up.  
After a few minutes there was a knock at the door. I jumped up to open the door, expecting the paramedic, but it wasn't. It was John.  
"Uh, hey John," I said, trying to keep the door shut enough and keep my body in the way so he couldn't see what's inside.  
"What's going on?" He asked.  
"Nothing. Why would anything be going on? Everything's fine."  
"You're acting funny, George, and you won't let me inside. What's going on?"  
"I said nothing!"  
He didn't believe me. I wasn't the best actor. He pushed past me and into the house, but stopped before he got very far.  
"You killed them!" He explained. "No wonder you're acting weird!"  
"I didn't kill them!" I said. "They're not dead."  
"Then what the hell happened?" He demanded. "Why are Laynee and Paul Lying in the floor like dead men?"  
I had to explain to him what had happened, and boy, was he angry.  
"And you haven't called an ambulance or anything? Why are they still just laying here?!"  
"I called. They're coming!"  
"They better be!"  
He sat down on the floor beside Laynee and pulled her into his lap, brushing her hair out of her face and rubbing his finger across a bruise on her forehead.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I opened my eyes slowly and surveyed my surroundings. Great. Once again I was in a hospital bed. In a hospital.  
(Where else would a hospital bed be?)  
I thought about sitting up, but my head was pounding, and I really didn't feel like thinking any more. Or be awake. It was the worst headache I've ever had! Not quite as bad as when I'd gotten it- first falling face-first onto the hard floor, then being dropped onto the floor, hitting it pretty hard. It hurt though. Damn, it hurt.  
I looked around and clicked the nurse call button. Maybe they could give me something for the pain. Maybe not. At least they could bring me somebody to talk to- if anybody was here, but I was pretty sure they were.  
The nurse walked in, and for a split second I thought it was Melissa. The curly hair wasn't quite the right colour. I was thankful.  
"Oh, good! You're awake. Can I get you anything?" The girl asked.  
"Can you get me something for this killer headache. And maybe my family or whoever the hell is here for me."  
"I sure can," she smiled. She was friendly. Too friendly. But I liked her. She wasn't Melissa.  
Shortly after she left, John came in.  
"Laynee! Are you ok?" He asked, rushing to my bedside. I tried tried to move my left arm to click the button to sit the bed up, but realised I couldn't, since it was all wrapped up and shit like that, so I reached over with my right to do it.  
"As far as I know." I said after I sat the bed up. "Except for this massive headache. And my arm. Which I didn't know was broken until now."  
"I'm sorry," he said.  
"What the hell for?" I laughed. "It's not your fault any of this happened."  
"Yeah, but I left."  
"I told you to."  
"I wasn't there."  
"I was pissed at you. I didn't want you there. So you left. Respecting my wishes. It was my fault."  
"You're acting all... Negative. What's up with you?"  
"I'm in horrible pain. Sitting in a hospital. What do you think is wrong with me?"  
"Oh. Well I still feel bad about what happened," he said.  
"Don't," I ordered him. "How's Paul? I feel bad about that."  
"I dunno. Haven't seen him."  
"Oh... I hope he's ok. All of this is my fault."  
I laid my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes. My headache was getting worse.  
"Brian's going to hate me," I muttered.  
"He already does," John said.  
I opened my eyes and looked at him. "Thanks, John. Thanks a lot."  
"Sorry."  
I laid my head back down and closed my eyes. For some odd reason I was craving a cigarette. I tried smoking once. A long time ago. Back in America. I didn't quite see the appeal in sucking smoke into my lungs. But now- now I wanted to. I don't know why.  
I expressed my odd want to John and he laughed.  
"But you don't smoke!"  
"I could start," I snapped.  
"But why?"  
"I don't know. I just feel like I need one!"  
He laughed again. "I'd give you one, but there's that sign over there that says, very clearly, 'no smoking' so I can't."  
"Damn you and your ability to read," I muttered.  
He just shook his head, smiling at me.  
After what seemed like forever for me, the nurse who'd come in earlier came back in with some kind of medicine for my headache.  
"Bless you," I said after she handed me the medicine.  
And thank the heavens for straws. I had to have John hold the cup of water with the straw in it while I had the pill in my good hand.  
"This medicine may make you a little- how do you put it?- loopy, I guess. And it'll probably put you to sleep pretty soon," the nurse said.  
"I don't care," I said.  
She then turned to John.  
"She may say something's that seem a bit odd, but it's just the medicine, so don't worry, alright."  
"She's already acting a bit odd," he laughed. "But ok."  
"If you need anything, just call, alright?"  
"Sure, sure, I said."  
I laid my head back and closed my eyes, hoping the medicine would kick in soon. Thankfully it did. The pain slowly began to ease away. And so did my bad mood.  
"John," I said, looking at him.  
"Do you still want that cigarette?" He asked.  
"Not right now," I said. "Maybe later," I smiled.  
"Then what is it?" He asked.  
"You know I love you, right?"  
"You've said it a couple of times."  
"Well I do. I just want you to know that."  
"I love you too, Laynee."  
"That's good. It's nice to be loved my somebody."  
"You're more than loved, Laynee, by more than one person," he said.  
"I know," I sighed. "John," I said agin.  
"Yeah?"  
"Never mind," I shook my head.  
"No, what is it?" He asked, grabbing my good hand.  
"Nothing," I shook my head.  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah."  
I yawned.  
"You need some sleep now," he said.  
"No I don't," I shook my head again.  
"Well you need something," he said.  
I looked at him and sighed.  
"What I need now, John, isn't sleep, or a cigarette right now. I need you to kiss me," I don't know why I said it. It was weird to say it, but I did.  
"Are you alright?" He asked.  
"I'm fine, John. I can't exactly kiss you from where I am. I want you to kiss me."  
"Laynee, you need some sleep. You're medicine is starting to work I think."  
"You're damn right it's working, John. My head isn't hurting as bad. And I just want a kiss from my boyfriend. But, no. He won't kiss me because I've just taken some weird medicine and he thinks I'm acting weird. Paul would do it."  
Damn medicine. I didn't mean to say that. It slipped. I didn't mean for that to come out.  
I couldn't exactly what emotion was playing on his face. He looked hurt, angry, and maybe a hundred other emotions. The next thing I knew he was kissing me. A deep but angry kiss.  
"Better?" He asked when he pulled back.  
"John, I swear I didn't mean that!" I said.  
"Just the medicine talking, right?" He said, stepping away from the bed. "You need to sleep now."  
He then left the room.


	45. Chapter 45

_**A/N: Hello hello hello. How ya doin? I'm good. It's like 1 A.M. Right now, but I'm posting this now instead of tomorrow morning (or later this morning...) per request by somebody who faithfully reads and reviews every chapter (and also has wonderful stories)- The Starkiller :)**_

_**Anyway, this chapter is a bit shorter than the past couple I've written, but that's because this is all I have right now. I'm sorta stuck after this part, but I'll figure it out and more chapters will be out sooner or later (probably later because of soon to be lack of Internet...)**_

_**Ok, wow. I'm rambling a lot. Let's get you to the story- I now present to you: chapter 45 (I hope that's the right chapter #...)**_

_**ENJOY!**_

(Paul's P.O.V)  
I woke up in a hospital bed. I was all bandaged up. Especially my right hand, which I didn't even want to think about moving. But I wasn't thinking about that. As soon as I regained consciousness I was thinking about Laynee. I was hoping she was alright. Hoping George showed up soon enough. Hoping Stephen wasn't able to do anything- or Valerie for that matter.  
It wasn't ten minutes that I'd woken up that the nurse walked in. When I saw who it was I just closed my eyes and groaned. It was Melissa. Why, oh why?  
"Oh goodie! You're awake," she said.  
"I am?" I asked, slowly opening my eyes and looking at her. She giggled.  
"How are you feeling?" She asked.  
"Sore," I replied, not exactly wanting to be having a conversation with her at the moment.  
"That's to be expected, seeing what happened."  
She stepped up to the hospital bed. "It's horrible that you'd be dragged into something like that, though."  
She brushed the hair out of my eyes and smiled at me. She was a pretty girl. Her green eyes complimented her curly black hair quite nicely. She was pretty. But nothing compared to Laynee. At least not to me.  
"I wasn't dragged into it. I jumped in voluntarily," I said.  
"Well that was awful heroic, Paul. You know, I think there should be more heroic guys like you out there."  
She just stood there, smiling at me over the bed.  
"Uh, thank you... I guess..."  
"Is there anything I can do for you?"  
I hated to throw her off, but I needed to know.  
"Can you tell me how Laynee's doing?" I asked her.  
She huffed and stepped back from the bed.  
"Still stuck on her, I see," she mumbled. "She's fine. Broken arm, bruised head. I don't know if she's awake now. After hitting her head pretty hard she passed out. But she's fine..." She stepped back closer to the bed. "You know she's got John."  
"I know that better than anyone else."  
"Yeah, but Paul, she has John! Don't you get it!" She suddenly got excited from the idea. It suddenly gave her some glimmer of hope.  
I didn't say anything else.  
"I'll go get the doctor for you."  
All the doctor did was come in and tell me what was wrong with me- bruised ribs, black eye, and all but my thumb on my right hand broken- and then he left, telling me I couldn't use my hand for a "long long time" as he put it.  
George stopped by to say hello, see how I was doing. And the police came in. They asked a bunch of questions about what happened. I explained to them everything that I knew. What happened that night, and any other trouble I knew about from Valerie and Stephen, and when I didn't have all of the answers they needed- or wanted- they left.  
After they left in stormed a very angry John Lennon. This can't be good.

* * *

(John's P.O.V)  
I needed to talk to Paul. I probably wasn't going o be happy with what he said, though.  
Sure, he's lying in a hospital bed. He's injured. He can do nothing but stay in that bed until the doctor gives the OK, but I wasn't too happy with him- if my suspicions prove to be true, I'll be extremely unhappy with him.  
I could have talked to Laynee about it. She'd probably end up telling me something, but I didn't want to end up yelling at her or something. That's why I left, hoping she'd get some rest so I could go back and talk to her later.  
"Paul," I said as I entered his room- after having to get directions from three different people.  
"John? How ya doin'?" He asked, trying his best to sit up a bit.  
"I've been better Paul, a lot better," I said, standing there staring at him.  
"What's wrong?" He asked, looking extremely confused.  
"Laynee."  
"What's wrong with her?" He asked in a slightly panicky tone. The obviousness of his affection for Laynee just fuelled the fire of my anger.  
"Nothing! She's fine." I shook my head.  
"Then what is it?" He asked, obviously calming down.  
"You!" I snapped.  
"But I thought you said it was Laynee..." I wanted to strangle him. He was acting like he couldn't put two and two together.  
"It is, Paul! But not just Laynee. It's Laynee AND you."  
"Wait, what?"  
"Did you not hear me? My problem is whatever is going on between you and Laynee."  
"What're you talking about?" He asked.  
"What did you do to her?" I demanded.  
"I don't know what you're talking about, John."  
"I have a feeling you do, Paul." I took a deep breath. He was frustrating me.  
"Please explain, John. I'd love to know what's gotten you so upset."  
"Paul," I started.  
"John." I glared at him.  
"Paul," I began again. "How do you think it feels when you're sitting in a hospital waiting for your girlfriend to regain consciousness and she begins to mumble something. It gets you pretty damn excited. She wasn't awake, but she was saying something. Ok, now, how do you think it feels to realise that what she saying is her ex boyfriend's name. Saying that she needs him. Now that makes you pretty damn mad, but you ignore it. She's lying in a hospital bed and she's been out for a while. You realise that you'll never know what's going on in her subconscious, and you can't control it."  
"Look, I'm sorry, but I can't help that, John." He said. "What she says in her sleep is all her. I've got nothing to do with that."  
"That's not all, Paul." I stopped him.  
He waved his hand, telling me to continue.  
"How do you think it feels to find out she's finally awake and you can go see her. Once again you get pretty damn excited. But then the nurse gives her some medicine. Says it may make her act funny- even though she'd been acting a little strange in the first place." I stopped for a second.  
"Well what happened, John?"  
"Say she asks you to kiss her. Naturally, what's going to happen?" I asked him.  
"You'd kiss her." He answered correctly.  
"Exactly. But say you hesitate, and say that makes her upset. How do you think it feels to hear her flat out say that so called ex boyfriend would have gladly done it. It once again makes you pretty mad."  
"And why would that make you so angry? She's under the influence of some weird hospital drug."  
"Yeah, Paul, but that doesn't change the fact that she's all of a sudden infatuated with you again. That's enough to make anyone mad, even if their girlfriend is under the influence of some medicine."  
"I'm sorry this has upset you, but I can't control what Laynee does."  
"Of course you can't. But you can control what you do," I told him.  
"That I can," he agreed. "But seeing as I've done nothing, I don't see why that matters."  
It was obvious that he'd done something that he wasn't about to admit. The guilt was playing across his face.  
"Paul, I really don't believe you, you know that, right? What did you do to - or with- Laynee?" I demanded once again.  
"Maybe she's just changing her mind again, John. Maybe it's not me!"  
"But maybe it is!" I shouted.  
When I raised my voice, in came the nurse. It was Melissa. Isn't that wonderful.  
"Is everything alright in here?" She asked.  
"Dandy," I replied sarcastically.  
"Well it's time to give Paul some medicine for is hand- you can stay if you like, John."  
I thought about staying. Maybe I could eventually get it out of him... But then again that wasn't too good of an idea, so I decided to leave. Before going, though, I turned to Paul.  
"I'll just ask Laynee, then."  
"You do that," he said. "See what she says."  
"I will," I snapped.  
What did he mean by that? Laynee'd tell me the truth.. Eventually, right?


	46. Chapter 46

**_A/N: Woah! Chapter 46 came out a LOT sooner than I'd expected. I've been working on this since I woke up this morning. And I've just finished it. And, surprisingly, it turned out nothing like I'd been planning it... Like I have no clue why Pattie ended up in this chapter. She wasn't supposed to be there. She just showed up and took the chapter over... But it did give me a doorway to my next chapter, so I guess it's a good thing... Anyway, what that means is I will have yet another chapter out before I disappear for however long it'll be..._**

**_anyway, enjoy chapter 46! _**

**_(You can always let me know what you think about it. That helps. A lot.)_**

**_ENJOY!_**

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I didn't want to fall asleep. I didn't want to let that stupid little pill make me do anything else- if in fact it was the medicine that made me say it. It had to have been. I wouldn't have said it otherwise.  
I didn't want to fall asleep, but I did. Sleepiness overcame me and I was out like a light. And I didn't wake back up until the next day.  
When I woke up George and Pattie were sitting in the room with me.  
"How long have you two been in here?" I asked when I saw them.  
"Oh good! You're awake!" Pattie said.  
"We haven't been here long- twenty or thirty minutes maybe," George said.  
"And why are you just sitting here?" I asked.  
"Pattie insisted we sit here until you woke up," George shrugged.  
"Thankfully for him you woke up so soon or else he'd be grumpy," Pattie giggled as George shoved her shoulder.  
"And why did you want to wait for me to wake up?" I asked.  
"'Cause I wanted to see you. I haven't seen you in a while. We need to talk," Pattie said.  
I glared at her. I loved the girl, but she wasn't the best person to talk to. "So you made him sit with you?" I asked.  
"Well I didn't want to be bored to death while you were just sleeping. What's the fun in that?"  
"So me sleeping is boring, huh?"  
"Anyone sleeping is boring. Except George. He snores, so it's cute."  
George rolled his eyes.  
"Snoring isn't cute Pattie," I said.  
"It is when it's George," she smiled at him and kissed him.  
"Alright alright," I said. "You can stop."  
"What? So it's ok for you to do it, and not me?" George asked.  
I didn't respond.  
"George, you can leave now. I wanna talk to Laynee," Pattie shooed him away.  
"Be that way then," he said as he got up and left the room.  
As soon as he shut the door she scooted her chair closer to the bed.  
"Soo..." She said.  
"What do you want to know now, Pattie?" I sighed.  
"First off I want to know what's up with John. He's in a really sour mood and he's not talking to anybody. Not since he went to talk to Paul."  
"He went to talk to Paul, huh?" I asked. Shit. He talked to Paul. Yeah. That'd make him angry for sure.  
"Yes. Do you know anything about what happened- why?" She asked.  
"I have no idea," I lied.  
"You sure?" She asked. "Because it was right after he'd talked to you."  
"I still don't know anything about it. Sorry to burst your bubble."  
"Fine then. So tell me what happened- how you ended up here."  
"Do I have to? Hasn't George already told you?"  
"He told me what he knew, but I want to know why the hell Paul was doing lying in the floor... And what you two were doing beforehand."  
"Why does that matter?" I asked rather quickly.  
"Well what happened? You're rather quick to say nothing did."  
"Nothing happened. We were talking."  
"About what?"  
"Nothing important."  
"What was it?"  
"Nothing Pattie! We talked about nothing and we did nothing! Stop asking."  
"Fine then, what did you not do?"  
"What?"  
"If you did nothing then tell me what you didn't do."  
"Anything."  
"That doesn't make sense."  
"You're not making any sense. My answer did make sense. What didn't we do? We didn't do anything. There, I answered you."  
"Laynee."  
"Pattie."  
"You're avoiding something."  
"No I'm not."  
"Yes you are."  
"No I'm not."  
"You like Paul."  
"No I don't."  
"Yes you do. You told me."  
"Ok, yes I do."  
"And something happened between you two that night."  
"No it didn't."  
"Yes it did. Why would you be blushing right now if it didn't?"  
"I'm not blushing."  
"Then you're running a fever. I should call the nurse. I think Melissa is on this side of the hospital this morning."  
"I'm not running a fever."  
"Then you're blushing."  
"Ok, maybe I am."  
"You are. Why?"  
"No reason."  
"It has something to do with Paul."  
"No it doesn't."  
"Yes it does. You blushed when I suggested something happening with you two. So what was it? What happened?"  
"Nothing!"  
"It was something! What was it?"  
"Even if it was something, Pattie, I wouldn't tell you!" I snapped.  
"What? Why not?" She asked, sounding a little hurt.  
"Because, Pattie, you'd end up telling John- or George who'd end up eventually telling John- and John would be extremely mad at me- like he probably already is- and I can't take that. I know, I made a mistake, and I might have actually enjoyed that mistake a little too much, but I don't want John to know because I love John, I do, and right now I can't stand to lose him. Not now. Not right now. Too much is going on. Sure it's all my fault, but I don't want anything else to change right now. Not now." I gone rambling off and upset myself. I started to cry.  
"Laynee- Laynee, I'm not going to tell John. Calm down. Just- what did you do? You didn't...?"  
"No, Pattie. I wouldn't do that. We just kissed. But I still feel awful about it now. Because I told Paul I still loved him. But I can't stand true to that, now can I? And I can't just love somebody else when I love John. You can't be in love with two people at the same time, can you?"  
"I-I dunno, Laynee," she said, not sure of what else to stay.  
"And what was wrong with John earlier? Oh, y'know, I made the mistake of saying something about Paul to him, made him mad. I guess he went to go talk to Paul. And that didn't help it, I guess. I just- I just can't do this, Pattie!"  
"Uh... Well.. If you don't want me to say anything to John I won't. Or George. If you don't want him to know just don't say anything, I won't say anything- it'll be our secret. How's that sound. Just, uh, hang in there... I really don't know what to tell you right now."  
"Well if you keep your mouth shut- like you to have not been able to do before- then I'd say thanks for listening, I guess. I really wouldn't have been able to tell anyone else."  
"Uh, no problem... This really didn't go how I was planning it to go. I didn't really get to know what happened that George didn't know about... But I guess I'll just talk to Paul," she said, standing up.  
"Yeah, alright. Thanks for stopping by."  
I was slightly sarcastic when saying this, but she probably didn't get that.  
"No problem. Uh, I'm gonna go now."  
I was hoping and praying she'd keep her mouth shut like she said she was. Hopefully she was just of to talk to Paul, but she seemed much to eager to get out.  
Oh well. My life is already turning into hell, why not add fuel to the fire. I'd just do what I could, like Pattie said, pretend nothing happened if John asked. But hopefully he wouldn't ask. I'm not sure how well I could do not saying anything. I wasn't going to say anything to Pattie, and you see how well that went. I broke down and told her exactly what I wasn't going to tell her- exactly what I'm not planning on telling John. I just needed time to compose myself, then maybe I'd be able to not tell John. I just needed a little time.  
Unfortunately I didn't have any time. After Pattie walked out John walked right in.  
Shit. This always happens. Why does this always happen?


	47. Chapter 47

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
So, there was no time for me to compose myself. No time to think of anything slightly believable to say to John, but I was going to try. I had to, right?  
"Hey, John," I said, quickly wiping my eyes. I'd forgotten I'd been crying.  
"You alright?" He asked, seeing me wipe my eyes.  
"Yeah, I'm fine. How 'bout you?"  
"I guess."  
He sat down in the chair that was placed beside the bed.  
"Did you go home last night?" I asked, doing my best at making conversation.  
"Brain stopped by last night to make sure everyone went home, so I didn't have much of a choice."  
"Good ol' Brian," I said.  
"Yeah, he's really not in a good mood about any of this, what with Paul not really able to play."  
"He can still sing," I pointed out.  
"Brian doesn't care. I think he goes around looking for something to be mad about."  
"Yeah, I guess so."  
He didn't say anything else. He just sat there, staring at some spot on the wall.  
"John," I said.  
He looked at me.  
"I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know why I said what I did. I just said it. I'm sorry," I said again.  
"Laynee, I'm not mad about that," he shook his head.  
"Then what is it?" I asked. "Because your mad about something and you want to talk about it- or else you wouldn't have come in here, am I right?"  
"Yes, you're right, Laynee," he said, but that was all he said.  
"Then what is it, John? It'd be better to just say it now and get over it."  
He took a deep breath. He reached in his pocket and pulled something out. I couldn't see what it was from the way I was lying in the bed, but he kept looking down at it and playing with it- whatever if was.  
"Laynee, who would you rather spend the rest of your life with, me or Paul?" He asked.  
"What? What kind of question is that?"  
"Is it really that far fetched of a question, Laynee?"  
"You're talking about the rest of my life, John. I'm only 19!"  
"I know that Laynee, George likes to remind me. But I'm being serious, Laynee. Maybe you haven't thought that far, but I have, and I liked the idea. But it's too soon to be making decisions like that, I guess, since you seem to be questioning yourself about our relationship."  
I couldn't believe what he was saying. And I didn't know how to respond.  
"What?" Was all I could say.  
He sighed rather loudly.  
"Ok. Forget I said anything about that," he shook his head, putting the object he'd been playing with back in his pocket.  
Forget? How could I forget something like that?  
"I just wanna know," he said looking me in the eye and being as sincere as possible, "Because I love you, Laynee, I do, but I want to know, what is going on, or has been going on, with you and Paul."  
"There's nothing-"  
"I'm not asking if anything happened, Laynee, because from what I've gathered something has. I'm asking what it is. What's going in between you two?"  
Well there went all chances of not saying anything.  
I sucked in a breath before saying anything.  
"What has Paul told you?" I asked.  
"Just about as much as you have."  
"But I haven't said anything yet."  
"Exactly, but you've both made it obvious."  
"Oh...uh, well I don't know how to explain it, really," I said, searching for what to say and where to start.  
"Please try," he said. He sounded like he was trying to hide the fact that he was about to cry.  
I decided to tell him basically what I told Paul- why I'd dated Paul in the first place, when I'd realised I may actually have feelings for Paul, and why Paul and I broke up. I then went on to tell him what happened that morning I was at Paul's house after he saved me from Stephen. I explained to him what I'd told Pattie the next day, and then I told him about what happened the other night with Paul and I, the night we'd both ended up in the hospital.  
When I finished we just sat there in silence. I hung my head, feeling even more awful about it than I had when I'd been talking to Pattie.  
"That's all I needed to know, Laynee," he said, standing up.  
"What does that mean?" I asked, watching him as he made his way towards the door.  
"For us, Laynee? I'm not so sure."  
And that was it. He left the room and shut the door.  
What the hell have I just done? Damn hospital. If I'm not mistaken, it was in this stupid hospital that my last relationship was pretty much ended. I didn't know if this one was over or not. But by the looks of things, it was sure as hell close to it. And what had I told Pattie? I told her I didn't want to lose John, but that's just what I was doing. And it was nobody's fault but mine. Dammit.

* * *

(Pattie's P.O.V)  
As soon as I walked out of Laynee's room John walked in, and I knew it couldn't go well. And my fears were confirmed when a while later John stormed out of the hospital. I had no clue what had happened, but it couldn't be good. George stood up, about to go check on Laynee, but I stopped him. Laynee needed to be alone for a while. She didn't need the stress of anyone else. Not right now.  
"What's up with him?" George asked.  
"I'm not sure, but I can guess, and it might not be good."  
"What do you think is wrong with him?"  
"I can't tell you," I shook my head. "I told Laynee I wouldn't say anything. You'll find out soon enough."

**_A/N: Thought you'd get away without an author's note, didn't ya? Well I decided to put it at the end so I could say I have no clue how I'm going to write myself out of this hole, but I will. And I will be back sometime, so don't worry, the story isn't ending, I'm just not gonna be able to update for a while. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!_**


	48. Chapter 48

**_A/N: Woah! Long time no see! Here's the next chapter for your enjoyment!  
You don't know how excited I am to finally be able to post again after over a week (thankfully it was a lot shorter than I'd expected, but it's not for long. I'll post the next chapter once I get to another place with Internet. But who knows when that will be? Not me, that's for sure!)  
Anyway, please enjoy this chapter, and I will see you again, hopefully, soon.  
P.S- thankfully I haven't gone crazy yet- close to it, but not quite..._**  
(John's P.O.V)  
Me going in and talking to Laynee turned out partially how I'd expected it to. Part of me knew I wasn't going to like what I heard, but the other part of me refused to believe it. I'd wanted her to argue, say that nothing had happened and prove it to me, but the rational side of me knew that wouldn't happen.  
I'd been hoping that when I asked who she'd want to spend the rest of her life with she would have said me, and maybe then I would have showed her the ring I'd picked out, maybe if the conversation had gone a little better I'd have showed it to her a little later. But I was planning on showing her. I'd had my mind set on marrying Laynee for a while, and for a time I thought that maybe she'd actually consider marrying me too- but as I saw from her acting today she'd never even thought about. Maybe it was too soon, like she said. And like she said, she was young. Maybe it was stupid of me to even bring it up. But I'd been carrying around that ring since the night she'd gotten mad at me- the night Stephen and Valerie showed up and she ended up in the hospital. She'd gotten mad and told me to leave, so I did, and I'd gone out with a mission on my mind, and I completed that mission. I'd gone and bought Laynee a ring.  
And now I held this ring in my hand. It was small and silver, and it had three small diamonds in the centre of the band. It was a nice ring. I looked at it once more before throwing it in a drawer and slamming the drawer shut. Maybe I'd overreacted with Laynee, but I was upset. It's not too great a feeling finding out your girlfriend loved another man- still loved her ex. Who had been your best mate. And to top it off, it was the girl you thought you might marry. But now all of those thoughts had vanished and you were once again sitting here trying to figure out where your relationship with her stood.  
"It stands wherever you want it to, John," I told myself. I knew that, and I also knew that as long as there was something with Paul there couldn't be anything with Laynee and I, and as of right now, that's how it was going to have to stand.  
Damn. I'd fought too long and hard for this girl to have this happen now. How many months has it been? Too many, that's all I know.  
"But, John, you know Paul probably feels the same way," the voice in my head reminded me.  
That he does. He feels that if anyone at all deserves Laynee that it should be him. But saying it like that makes her sound like some trophy, but she isn't. If anything she'd be a trophy wife...  
"But you've got to get your mind off of that, John."  
But how could I? How could I just forget the fact that I'd made a complete fool out of myself thinking I might marry Laynee, thinking that if I'd said something to her today it might make things better. I didn't. She practically laughed in my face when I'd asked her: "what kind of question is that?" She'd asked.  
Well, Laynee, that's the kind of question where I'm asking you to marry me, but I see how you feel about that, seeing as your response.  
"Forget about it, John, just forget about it!"  
Yeah. Sure. I'll forget about that. If that were ever possible.  
"You need sleep, John, you didn't sleep all night."  
Yeah, I know I do. I'm talking to myself.

(George's P.O.V)  
When John was headed to talk to Laynee he seemed a bit out of sorts, and when he left he was angry. Immediately, I wanted to go check on Laynee. Pattie wouldn't let me go. She said wait. So wait we did. Two whole hours of it. Why we waited so long I'll never know. We waited and waited- I didn't know what Pattie was waiting for- and in the midst of all of our waiting Ringo showed up. He'd been with us most the time, and he'd gone in and talked to Paul, but he hadn't gotten the chance to go in and talk to Laynee. When he showed up he was planning on seeing Laynee, and he wasn't leaving until he did so. They had an interesting friendship. He was like that older brother she never had- yeah, she had an older brother, but he was a step brother, and he hated Laynee.  
Ringo hadn't been in the room long when he came back out to get Pattie and I.  
"What is it?" I asked.  
"She just said she wanted both of you to come in with me," he shrugged.  
When we entered the room Laynee was laid back, staring at the empty white ceiling with a blank expression on her face. She didn't acknowledge us when we walked in. Pattie and I sat down in the two chairs that were there and Ringo sat down at the foot of the bed. She still ignored us.  
"Laynee we're here to talk," Ringo said, grabbing her foot that was closest to him and shaking it.  
She force a smile. "Hey you guys."  
"What's up?" Ringo asked  
Laynee sat up and looked at Pattie.  
"I wanted to talk to Pattie, but I figured I should fill you two in on everything that's just happened as well."  
"What is it, Laynee?" Pattie asked.  
"Well, uh, some... Issues have come up..." She stopped to suck in a sob, trying her best to hold back the tears. "And by the way everything is looking right now..." She once again tried to hold back the tears.  
"By the way everything is looking right now, John and I are..." The tears began to stream down her face. "John and I are no longer dating."  
Pattie gasped, and by the look on her face she knew what these 'issues' were.  
I couldn't believe it. I told John not to hurt Laynee, but by the look on her face and the sound of her voice she was hurt more than any physical injury could hurt her.  
I jumped up.  
"Where're you going?" Pattie asked.  
"I'm gonna go kill him," I said. I felt I had every right. At least set him straight.  
"No!" Laynee shrieked. "Don't hurt him!"  
"But I thought..." Why would she not want me to hurt him. He broke her heart, he deserves it.  
"It's my fault, George. Don't blame him."  
"You can't put this all on yourself, Laynee," Ringo added in. He seemed to still be trying to understand what she said, or maybe he was just trying to figure out what to say.  
"No, it's not all my fault, but it's not his. He's just doing what he thinks is best..." She stopped a second to keep herself from crying again. "And if that's what he wants to do, let him do it."  
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she covered her face with her hands.  
"I think you two need to leave for right now. I think we may need to talk," Pattie said then ushered us towards the door.  
"Uh, ok, if you need anything I'll be right out here," I said.  
"Yeah, me too," Ringo agreed, still not knowing what to say.


	49. Chapter 49

_**A/N: well, I decided that since I'm still in range of Internet I'll post another chapter real quick since I've got nothing better to do. So here's the next chapter. Hope you do enjoy, and I will see you all later!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
"What happened?" Pattie demanded as soon as Ringo and George left the room.  
"He was asking questions he already knew the basic answer to. I answered what he asked and he didn't like the answer," I said. I didn't really feel like explaining. Sure, I wanted Pattie here, but I didn't want to have to explain- not now.  
"What do you mean 'he already knew the basic answer'?"  
"He talked to Paul. Paul didn't actually say anything, but John's a bright guy. He can put two and two together- it's not too hard..." I broke down in tears again. I couldn't take this. Being in this hospital was driving me insane.  
"Laynee, don't cry it's not-"  
"Don't you dare say it's not my fault because you know it is!"  
"It's not completely your fault. If you think about it, you could blame Paul too," Pattie said, trying to make me feel better- it wasn't working.  
"But why would I want to do that, Pattie? If I wouldn't have ever said anything to Paul we wouldn't be dealing with this, now would we?"  
She didn't say anything. She just sat there.  
"Uh, is there anything you need?" She finally said something.  
"Yeah, actually there is. I need to get out of here or I'm going to have a mental break down. I need to go home so I can cry in my own bed. I need to stop acting like a idiot and take better care of my relationships..." I stopped again to hold back the sobs.  
"I'm sure I can help with all but the last one," she said, standing up. "I'll be right back."  
Then she left the room, leaving me lying there looking up at the ceiling. A while later the door opened again, and I expected to see Pattie once again, but it wasn't. Instead it was that nurse I loved so very much- Melissa. I groaned and covered my eyes with my good arm.  
"What's wrong with you?" She asked.  
"I'm stuck in this damn hospital, in this damn room, and now I'm in here with you," I replied, moving my arm away from my eyes.  
"I don't see what you have against me," she said stepping closer to the bed and fidgeting with the machines around it.  
"You don't see why I don't like you?" I scoffed. "Melissa, you were kissing my boyfriend- you were trying to steal my boyfriend, resulting in me not having that boyfriend any more. Why would I like you?"  
"Yeah yeah, I figured as much. But you know, thanks to you Paul will hardly look at another girl. If they aren't you then they aren't good enough- and he knows just as well as anyone else does that you've got John so he needs to move on."  
"No I don't," I mumbled.  
"What do you mean you don't?" She asked, stopping what she was doing.  
"I mean I'm not dating John anymore, so can you just finish what you're doing and get out?" I snapped.  
She laughed a little.  
"Well isn't that nice. I'm done now. Your clothes are over there on that little table- you can go home know. I'm pretty sure there's someone in the lobby waiting for you."  
That last bit she said actually sounded like a nurse. I was a bit shocked.  
I climbed out of the bed, slipped out of the hospital gown, and slipped into my clothes as quickly as possible- still not too quickly considering I only had use of one arm. The other was all wrapped up and difficult to do anything with.  
After getting dressed I considered stopping by Paul's room for a minute, but decided against it. I didn't want to have to tell him what happened right now.  
So, instead of walking to the other side of the hospital I walked to the lobby where Pattie and George were waiting for me and we all left the hospital together- Ringo was there also, but he was going to wait for Paul, since he also was being released per request from Pattie- for what was hopefully the last time.

As soon as Brian Epstein got word that everybody was free of the hospital he required that the boys get to work in the studio again. Great. The day after I get out of that hell-hole of a hospital I get stuck in a studio with someone who already can't stand me and probably hates me even more now- Brian- and John. And I'm not sure what's going to happen with that.  
Oh, and Pattie had work too, so I couldn't be with her; I don't know about Maureen. I hadn't seen her in a while. So I had no choice but to go into the studio and sit there. Listen to Brian complain. Wish I was somewhere else.  
"George, I don't want to go!" I whined as I finished my bowl of cereal I was eating.  
"I know you don't, but you have to. It's better for you."  
"No it won't be! Brian hates me!"  
"He'll have to get over it. Now get your coat and let's go."  
"Sir yes sir," I said, mock saluting him as I put my bowl in the sink and grabbed my jacket. I wasn't going to be difficult this time. There was no point in it. I was going to have to go any way. I'll just deal with it.  
By the time George and I arrived at the studio only Ringo was there (along with Brian and George Martin) so Ringo and George stood and talked for a while. Quite a while. For a good long time it seemed that John and Paul weren't going to show up. Which was fine with me. If they didn't show up I could go home. Unfortunately, for me, they did show up. First Paul, who came in looking like he'd just woken up and thrown on some clothes and combed his hair- which is probably what he did. He didn't have a chance to say hello. John walked in the door right behind him. He looked like he wanted to be there just as much as I did. He didn't say a word to me, he didn't look at me, he didn't in any way acknowledge that I was standing there in the room. He just walked in the front door and right into the studio. I watched him from the time he walked in one door to the time he disappeared through the other, and then I just stared at the door. A few minutes passed and everyone just stood there. Eventually John poked his head out of the door.  
"Are you three coming or not?" He asked.  
This time I knew he saw me. He looked right at me, but it wasn't a friendly look. He glared me, an angry, hurt glare, and I couldn't take it. I knew I was on the verge of tears, and I didn't want to cry in front of everybody. Without thinking about it I quickly left the studio and headed down the street. I didn't know where I was going. Maybe I'd end up home. I didn't know. I didn't care. I didn't care that I was supposed to stay under someone's watch 24/7. I wasn't going to sit in that stupid studio when I was wanted there. I didn't make it far down the road before the tears began to fall. I stopped, the sidewalk becoming blurred from the tears. I just sat there on the side walk where I stopped. Luckily, it wasn't a busy sidewalk, so I was left sitting there in peace. Until I heard someone coming down the sidewalk from the direction I had come. I didn't care to see who it was, and I actually hoped it would just be someone traveling down the sidewalk. Of course, it wasn't.  
"Laynee," the owner of the voice stopped beside me and knelt down, so their voice was right in my ear.  
Still I ignored them. I just sat there with my head tilted back and my eyes closed, occasionally wiping a tear away that slipped down my cheek.  
"Laynee," they said again. I knew who it was. Part of the reason I didn't want to talk to them. They hadn't done anything to me, but as Pattie pointed out, they are partly to blame for the issues with me and John. But I wasn't mad at them. I was mad because of the feelings I had for them.  
"Laynee, will you at least pretend like you can hear me?" They asked.  
I looked at him and wiped my eyes again.  
"What, Paul? What do you want?"  
"I want to know what's wrong with you," he said.  
I laughed.  
"You don't already know? That haven't already told you? You haven't figured it out?"  
"What're you talking about?"  
"Paul, take what you observed a few minutes ago and take a wild guess. I bet you can tell me what's wrong."  
He sat silent for a minute, and then it hit him.  
"You mean you and John..." He didn't finish the question, but I knew what he meant. I nodded my head.  
"Oh... I'm-I'm sorry," he said.  
"Why are you sorry?" I asked. "It's not your fault."  
"Yeah but... What happened?"  
"It doesn't matter," I shrugged.  
"But you two were so... I mean, something had to have happened, and it would matter, don't ya think?"  
"When I say 'it doesn't matter' I mean I don't want to talk about it, Paul."  
"Oh..."  
"Aren't you supposed to be at the studio now?" I asked him.  
"Aren't you?"  
"Yeah, but I'm not recording music."  
"I'm not needed right now. I can't do anything but sing right now, and they aren't doing that yet, so I'm free."  
"Isn't that nice," I muttered.  
"One more question, Laynee," he said.  
"What?"  
"When did it happen?"  
When did it happen, Laynee? When did John leave you like you deserve?  
"Yesterday," I said. "Why?"  
"I dunno. I was just wondering."  
I knew what he was about to do when he started leaning in towards me, but I stopped him before his lips met mine.  
"Not right now, Paul, please," I said, shaking my head apologetically.  
"Oh, I'm sorry... You ready to head back to the studio?" He asked, standing up.  
"No. Not really. But we can, I guess," I sighed.  
He helped me up off the ground and we headed back to the studio. I feared that this time wasn't going to be any better than the first today, but once again, I'd just have to deal with it.


	50. Chapter 50

**_A/N: I'm ba-ack! I've missed everyone, but I'm here for a few days, so you'll get a few more chapters. I can't really express how excited I am to be back connected to the World. The only people I've had to talk to were the pictures on my wall... _**

**_Anyway, here is the next chapter! Enjoy!_**

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
As the days rolled into weeks the only thing seemed to get better was my arm. I was now beginning to regain mobility of my arm. That was the only thing I looked forward to when waking up- seeing how well I could use my arm. Isn't that exciting.  
Days in the studio consisted of me going in, sitting in a corner, and not saying a word or doing anything the entire time the boys worked. Brian required that all four boys be in the recording room at all times- a rule he imposed just to make my time there miserable, or at least more miserable than it already would be.  
Brian made it very clear that he didn't want me there any more than I myself wanted to be there. He made it very clear that I was more and more useless and troublesome every day. I made it very clear I didn't give a damn what he thought. He also made it clear to me that he was glad John was through with me. That shut me up. And we always had that conversation. Every time I came into the studio. He enjoyed having an argument he knew he could win.  
When at home I mostly curled up on my bed or on the sofa, staring at the wall or at the television. Most of the time the television wasn't on. I just stared at it. The dark blank screen.  
Occasionally Paul would come over. He'd come and sit at the end of the sofa, try to start up some form of conversation, and when that wouldn't work he'd get frustrated and go home. I didn't mean to make him angry. I just didn't want to talk. I couldn't bring myself to have any sort of conversation.  
One day, maybe almost a month after I'd gotten out of the hospital, I was determined I was going to talk to John. I forced myself out of my normal mopey mood and I forced myself to pick up the phone and dial John's number. The phone rang, rang, rang, and finally it was answered, but the voice on the other end was unfamiliar. It was a female voice.  
"Hello?" The voice said.  
"Uh, sorry, I think I might have dialect the wrong number," I apologised.  
"Only if you weren't trying to call John Lennon," the woman said.  
"Oh, well I didn't dial wrong then... uh, who are you?" I asked. My heart broke a little more when I realised that this was another girl with John, answering his phone.  
"That doesn't really matter, now does it? May I ask why you're calling?"  
"Well I kinda need to speak to John," I said.  
"May I ask who it is who's asking for him?"  
"God, you sound like some kind of answering machine! Uh, just tell him it's an... Old friend."  
"I'll be right back."  
"You do that," I muttered.  
In the background I heard their conversation. It was muffled, but I could still make it out.  
"John, honey, someone's on the phone for you."  
I laughed. Who else would they be calling house to talk to? And then I realised she'd called him honey.  
"Who is it, love?" He asked.  
Love?  
"She just said she was an old friend."  
"She?" I could almost hear John sit up with interest. "Ask her if her name starts with a letter closer to the beginning of the alphabet or the end."  
"What?"  
"Just do it."  
The girl picked the phone up again.  
"This is going to sound strange, but does your name start with a letter closer to the beginning or the end of the alphabet?" She asked.  
"Beginning," I replied."What kind of question is that?"  
"It doesn't matter."  
She put the phone back down and went back to John.  
"She said beginning, John."  
"Ok. What did she say she wanted?"  
"She said she needs to talk to you."  
"About what?"  
"She didn't say."  
"Ask her."  
"Why don't you?"  
"I don't want to!"  
"Who is she?"  
"It doesn't matter," he said, mocking the tone she'd given me.  
"Just go talk to whoever it is, John. I'm not going to keep playing messenger."  
"If I have to..." He said. I could hear him stand up, from the sofa I'm guessing. "I'll do it."  
I heard what sounded like John kissing her- whoever her was.  
"I love you," she said.  
"I know you do," he replied before picking up the phone.  
My heart was completely crushed. It'd been a month and he'd already gonna and found himself somebody else. From the sound of it she was living with him. And she loved him... But he never said it back... Oh, but what does it matter.  
"Who was that?" I asked, holding back tears once more thanks to this man.  
"That's not important, Laynee, now what do you want?"  
"We need to talk, John."  
"We have nothing to talk about, Laynee. You've made your choices. You did that back at the hospital."  
"You didn't give me any chance to make a choice. I told you what you wanted to hear an you stormed out!"  
"Before that, Laynee. I asked you a simple question and you avoided answering it. You made your choice."  
"John, your question came out of nowhere! What did you want me to say?"  
"That's usually how it works- you're not supposed to expect it. And I wanted you to say me and get on with it, but that didn't happen. Now, Laynee, we have nothing else to talk about. I've moved on. I've gotten over it."  
"I can tell," I muttered. "Goodbye, John."  
"Bye."  
He hung up the phone. I sat there for a minute with the phone to my ear before falling back onto the sofa.  
"Who was that?" George asked, entering the room with a cup of tea.  
"Nobody," I said, resuming my normal position of curling up and staring at the TV. What else was there to do?


	51. Chapter 51

_**A/N: Here is chapter 51. I might post another chapter later today since I've got another 9 pre-written that I need to post.**_

_**Anyway, enjoy!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
"I've moved on. I've gotten over it."  
I said those words to Laynee, not necessarily because I wanted her to know but because I was still trying to convince myself that. But why? Why had I decided to try and move on instead of work things out? I don't know. Maybe I figured it would never work out. Maybe I'd just given up on her. But that couldn't be. I knew that. I still had hope in Laynee. When I realised it was Laynee who had called my heart leaped. I felt that love for her I'd been trying so hard to hide away. I wanted to immediately jump up and pick up the phone, but I didn't. I pretended I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't need Cassidy to know how badly I still wanted Laynee. I didn't need Cassidy to know that I still have the ring I bought for Laynee in the bottom of my dresser drawer. She doesn't need to know I still think about Laynee more than anything else. And Laynee didn't need to know that either.  
I don't know why I want Laynee to not know any of this. If she did I'm sure we'd still be together, but I still don't know where she stands with Paul. I can't really tell from the few times I see them at the studio. Of course, I walk right in and sit down, not taking much time to observe anything anyway- not wanting to slip up and say something to Laynee, or even worse, try to step over and kiss her as if I were still about to ask her to marry me. I couldn't risk that, so I didn't take time to observe anything.  
I had to stop myself from leaving and heading straight over to George's. How strange would that look to Cassidy?  
"Now who was that?" Cassidy asked when I sat back down.  
"An old friend, like she said," I told her.  
"An old girlfriend?" She questioned.  
"She's a girl, she was a friend, so I guess so," I shrugged.  
"John, I'm not stupid. I read the papers and magazines. You dated a girl named Laynee Harrison- George's cousin. Now, I don't think you know too many people named Laynee, so I'm guessing that's your ex girlfriend, am I correct?"  
"Yes, Cas, you're correct," I sighed.  
"Why is she calling you? What did she want to talk to you about?"  
"She thinks we have some unresolved issues, but we've worked them out. Nothing to worry about, love," I said leaning over and kissing her.  
"Good. We don't need anybody in the way," she replied, kissing me back.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
I made my usual trip to George's house to see Laynee. I was starting to question myself as to why I still try. She's so obviously heartbroken over John- she really loved him, I guess- she won't even talk to me. But I still try. All the time. But with Laynee, you never know. I could still hope, though, couldn't I?  
When I got to George's house I went ahead and walked on in, I didn't knock. He always kept the door unlocked knowing, now especially, that Laynee wasn't going to get up and answer it, and he was usually busy with something.  
Laynee was there, curled up on the sofa like she always was when I came over.  
"Hey there," I said, sitting down at her feet.  
"Hello, Paul," she said in her usually sad tone of voice.  
"How are you today?" I asked, following along with the usual conversation we had, expecting the same responses from her.  
"Worse than before," she sighed.  
Well that's new.  
"Worse? How so?"  
"I called John," she said, sitting up.  
"Oh..."  
"Yeah. Turns out he's already got a new girlfriend who's living with him." Her voice cracked and she starts crying again- the tear stains on her face showed she'd already been crying.  
I moved down the sofa, closer to her.  
"Another girl? Are you sure?" I knew. We all did, but I was going to play along with Laynee. This is the most she's talked in forever.  
"Mmhmm," she said, nodding her her head, but not actually speaking.  
"But hasn't it only been a few weeks?"  
"Mmhmm."  
"So he's gotten over you that quickly?" I shouldn't have asked that, but it was the first question I thought of."  
"Obviously, Paul, if he's gone and found somebody else!" She snapped.  
"Laynee, I would never do that to you," I said.  
Thanks to John, I had something else to convince Laynee to come back to me.  
"I know you wouldn't, Paul. You didn't. Even when you had more than plenty of time to do it."  
She laid her head down on my shoulder. We sat silently, her head on my shoulder and my hand running through her hair. She finally spoke up again.  
"Why did you do that, Paul?" She asked.  
"Do what?"  
"Why didn't you go and find you someone else? There are plenty of girls out in the world..."  
"But none of them are you," I said.  
She looked up at me with a questioning look on her face, as if she didn't understand that.  
"But why?"  
"Because I love you Laynee, with all my heart."  
"Have you ever given yourself the chance to love somebody else, though?"  
"Sure I have, before I met you... Why are you asking all of these questions?"  
She shook her head as if trying to clear it.  
"I'm just- I'm just trying to figure out if you really love me or not," she said.  
"Why would you doubt that I do, Laynee? I've told you time and time again."  
"I know, but so did John, and now he's found somebody else just as quickly as he left me."  
"Laynee, I love you, and I love you more than you will ever know."  
For a second she didn't say anything, as if she were thinking about it, but finally she said: "I love you too."  
An finally, after a good month of trying I finally got my chance to kiss her again, and I took that chance.  
Neither one of us heard the door open, so we didn't see who it was that came in the door until they spoke.  
"You know, Laynee, if this is what you wanted to talk to me about, I don't see why you couldn't just tell me over the phone!"  
It was John.  
"John I-"  
"I don't care anymore, Laynee. I don't even know why I came over here in the first place."  
"Then why don't you just leave!" Laynee said even though he was already halfway out the door by the time she said it.  
Once again she was crying. I pulled her into a hug and let her cry on my shoulder. What else could I do?


	52. Chapter 52

_**A/N: here it is- chapter 52. Now I don't really like this chapter. At all. I just figured have more of a happy chapter since I usually don't have good things happen. Oh, and I wanted cake... So I wrote about cake...**_

_**anyway, even if I don't personally like it, I hope you enjoy it.**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
"I'm sorry," I told Paul, pulling away from his hug.  
"For what?" He asked.  
"Everything."  
And I was. I was sorry that I'd been acting like had. I was sorry I'd been crying so much lately that I could probably fill the Nile river. I was sorry that I didn't realise that to John "we have nothing to talk about" means "I'm about to show up at your house." And I was sorry. Just sorry. I was a sorry person.  
"Don't blame yourself, Laynee," Paul said, wiping away my tears.  
"I-I didn't know he was going to stop by," I said.  
"It's fine, Laynee. Just forget about it," Paul said.  
"I hope I can, Paul. I hope I can."  
"I'll try and help you," he said before leaning in and kissing me again. We were once again interrupted, but this time by George.  
"Was that John just then?" George asked, licking a spoon.  
"Uh, yeah," I said.  
"What did he want?"  
"I don't know."  
"Oh, ok," he said, turning and heading back into the kitchen.  
"What are you doing in there?" I asked.  
"Cooking- baking- whatever. What are you two doing in here?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at me.  
"Nothing," I said, turning away from Paul.  
"Mhmm, I saw you."  
"No you didn't," I shook my head. "What are you cooking- or baking?"  
"A cake."  
"Why?"  
"I wanted cake."  
"So you just decided to bake one?"  
"Yeah, I did. Do you have a problem with that?"  
"No, but is that your cake I smell burning?" I asked.  
"Shit," he muttered, running back into kitchen to take it out of the oven. He soon called my name.  
"What do you want?" I asked as I made my way to the kitchen.  
"I blame you for this," he gestured towards the black charred and smoking remains of what was supposed to be his cake.  
"You kept me distracted."  
"I'll bake you another one, George. And it'll be better than your sorry excuse for a cake."  
"Hey, at least I tried."  
"Yeah, yeah, now you go call Pattie and go out somewhere. Paul and I will make you a nice little cake."  
"Fine then," he said, stomping out of the kitchen.  
"Paul! Come here!" I called. He soon appeared beside me in the kitchen.  
"What?"  
"Do something with that, uh, cake."  
"Like what? Feed it to the birds or something?" He asked, picking it up and looking at it.  
"You don't want to kill them! Just throw it away," I said, gathering the needed ingredients to make a cake- something I hadn't done in quite a while. But it had to turn out better than George's did- or would have.  
"What're you doing?" Paul asked me.  
"You mean what are WE doing? We're going to bake a cake for George."  
"Why?"  
"He wants one, now wash out that bowl and hand it to me. And that spoon. And that measuring cup," I said, gathering the last of the ingredients.  
"Ugh, you're making me work!" He complained.  
"Yeah, but this won't take long," I said, kissing him on the cheek.  
"That's great," he said, handing me the bowl spoon and measuring cup.  
I quickly measured out the ingredients, mixed them, and poured them into the cake pan. It took me maybe ten minutes, and Paul just watched me.  
"I thought WE were baking a cake," he said, licking the bowl.  
"You are helping, you're licking the bowl. Is that not a good enough job for you?"  
"You could help me," he said, dipping his finger in the leftover batter then wiping it across my face.  
"You missed my mouth, Paul, it's right here." I grabbed his shirt and pulled his face closer to mine, kissing him.  
"Oh, there it is," he smiled.  
"Mhmm, now go back over there and watch me again while I make the icing for the cake," I said, pushing him away and wiping the cake batter off my face.  
"He gets icing too? No fair."  
"Any good cake has a good icing. I thought you of all people would know that. Now pass me that powdered sugar."  
I was placing the pot I needed on the stove top when Paul grabbed a handful of powdered sugar and threw it at me, covering my face and hair with the powder.  
"Paul, I meant for you to pass me the box,y'know."  
"Ohh. That'd make more sense."  
He stepped up and kissed me on the cheek. "At least your face tastes good," he smiled.  
"I'm glad," I said sarcastically. "Now, will you please pass me that box?"  
He did, and it took hardly no time to make the icing, and shortly after that the cake was finished, we iced it, and cleaned the kitchen.  
"What? We don't get to eat a piece?" Paul asked as I left the kitchen.  
"I didn't bake it for us, now did I?"  
"All of that trouble and I can't even eat any of it?"  
"Not until George comes back. And 'all of that trouble'? You're the one causing the trouble for me. Thanks to you I get to go wash my hair to get the powdered sugar out."  
"My bad," he smiled.  
"You're gonna think your bad," I muttered as I walked into the bathroom to try and comb out what I could of the sugar.  
"You know, Laynee, the white looks good, though." He picked up a rag and wiped off my face.  
"I can clean myself up, Paul, but thank you."  
"I can't help you bake, I can't help you wash your face, I just can't do anything, can I?"  
"I guess you're just useless," I sighed playfully.  
He rolled his eyes and smiled before grabbing my hand and pulling me over to the sofa where he began kissing me. First kissing me on my lips for some time, then moving to my neck. The touch of his lips to the skin of my neck would occasionally cause me to let out a small moan. His lips moved back to mine, and his hands moved to my shoulders- to the straps of the loose-fitting tank top I'd been wearing as I moped about the house.  
Once again everything was stopped by the arrival of George. He was knocking on the door because I locked it after he left and he forgot his key. Maybe that was a good thing. Things were going on a bit too fast. But- but it was Paul and- and... No. It doesn't matter. It's a good thing that George showed up.  
When I opened the door, Pattie was standing next to him.  
"Oh, Georgie, Pattie, I spent such a long time in the kitchen bakin' you a cake," I said, doing my best Scarlett O'Hara impression. "I hope you do like it, I worked ever-so hard on it. I made it all from scratch, even the icing. Grannie's old recipe. The one that calls for the two-"  
"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn," George said, playing along with my Gone With the Wind act as he cut himself a piece of cake.  
"And I don't even get a thank you," I huffed as I walked out of the kitchen.  
"I haven't tasted it yet!" George protested.  
"Neither have I!" I yelled from where I was sitting on the sofa, next to Paul.  
"Thank you!" He called back.  
"It must be good!"  
"Delicious," he said walking into the room and holding out a fork. "Try some."  
"This IS delicious. Damn, I'm good," I smiled.  
"Better than Grannie's cake is."  
"That's an honour," I smiled.  
"Can't I try some?" Paul asked, sounding like he felt left out- or more likely, he really wanted some cake.  
"Go get you a piece. And bring me one too," I told him.  
Pattie walked in the room, smiling at me. She too was eating a piece of cake.  
"You don't have to say it- I know it's amazing." I said, holding up my hand as if to stop her.  
"It is, but I wasn't going to say that."  
"Oh. Then proceed with what it was then."  
She shook her head, laughing.  
"Glad to see you're feeling better."


	53. Chapter 53

_**A/N: I almost forgot about posting another chapter. How? I got distracted... Anyway, here it is. Hope you enjoy...**_

(John's P.O.V)  
I'd told Laynee I we had nothing to talk about. I told myself I wasn't going over there, but I couldn't help it. Hearing her voice again, even just through the phone, set me off- drove me crazy. I had to go talk to her. If things went well I had worked out what I was going to say. Ask her to forgive me, make things right, hope everything goes well from there...  
I don't know what I was expecting when I got to George's house. Maybe I thought she'd just be sitting there, still aching over what happened. I didn't really expect to see her with Paul. But why not? He's been after her as long as I have, and now that I'm out of the way he can have what he wants... But Laynee sounded so sincere when she'd said we needed to talk...  
I didn't mean to yell at her. I should have just left. She should have never known I was there. But I was hurt. I don't know why. I'm doing the same thing to her. I'm with Cassidy. But she's not my ex. She's not the one who caused the problems in the first place. Paul was Laynee's ex-boyfriend, and thanks to Paul Laynee and I aren't together. So, yes, I was hurt when I saw them together. I knew it was more than likely going to happen, but I could constantly pretend and tell myself it wouldn't. Until I saw them and knew it was.  
Gah! I need to stop. Just get over her, John. Why can't you do that?  
But I'm trying. I've found Cassidy who has one hell of a job keeping my mind of things. No- I didn't find her. Brian found her, brought her to me. Sort of a "here, I hated your last girlfriend, but here's a girl I do like, date her," kind of way. And I agreed to it, and we've been together for almost a month now. And we were doing so good. So so good. Until Laynee called. Dammit.  
When I got back to my house I found that Cassidy was sitting with Brian Epstein, drinking a cup tea.  
"Oh, John, glad you're back! Brian just stopped by. Said he was in this area and thought he'd stop in, isn't that nice?" Cassidy said as she handed me a cup of tea and told me to sit down.  
"What're you doing here, Brian?" I asked, sitting down the tea cup. I wasn't really in the mood for tea.  
"Well I've found that due to some, uh, scheduling conflicts I'm going to need you, Paul, George, and Ringo in the studio tomorrow morning," Brian said, sipping his tea.  
"Tomorrow morning? But I had, plans for tomorrow morning," I said, looking over at Cassidy. She smiled.  
"That's all right, hon, Brian said I could come in the studio and watch you all, then we can leave from there. Isn't that great?"  
"Oh, yeah, wonderful," I forced a smile. Why should I think it's great? Putting Laynee and Cassidy in a room together might not be a good idea...  
"You want me to call everyone up?" I asked Brian.  
"It'd save me a few trips- one unwanted one, at least." Brian said, meaning the visit to George's house. That man hated Laynee with some strange unwonted passion.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Good moods don't last long. At least they don't with me. Something- or someone- always comes along to ruin all the fun.  
To start it all off, I'd been expecting a full morning of sleep, considering the fact I hadn't been sleeping well lately, and on the few occasions I did get to sleep and stay asleep we had to go to the studio, so I couldn't sleep. Once again, that was the case.  
"Get up, Laynee, I'm not telling you again," George said, once again fighting with me to wake up.  
"Or what? I was supposed to get to sleep today!" I whined, rolling over.  
"Well John called last night. Said Brian wants us in the studio today. We'll get some other day off to make up for it."  
"To hell with what John said," I mumbled.  
"Just get up Laynee, I'm tired of doing this."  
"And I'm tired, period, so go away."  
"God, you're starting to sound like your pregnant again," he muttered.  
I sat up and looked at him.  
"Well I'm not. And I won't be any time soon, you know that as well as I do."  
Losing my unborn child was still a raw wound for me. I just didn't get upset about it as much because nobody mentioned anything about it. And another thing that stung me about George's comment was the fact that- according to the doctor- even if I wanted to have kids there's a more than likely chance that I won't be able to anymore. All thanks to Mark and Stella.  
I don't know, maybe I'd started crying. Maybe it was my silence as I started at the empty 'baby wall' in my room (the one where the crib and everything used to be), but George was suddenly at my side, wrapping one arm around my shoulder, apologising.  
"I didn't mean it like that, Laynee. I was just joking about your moodiness and your tiredness- I'm sorry."  
"It's fine," I said pushing him away and climbing out of my bed. "I should have gotten up the first time."  
I don't really remember getting dressed. I did that in a daze. The entire time I was thinking about how different things would be if I'd had my baby like I was supposed to. How grown he would be. With Christmas being right around the corner- two months away, woo- I wondered what I'd have gotten him for his first Christmas. I wondered what he'd look like- what colour hair and eyes. I wondered how the boys would have taken to him... I wasted all of my time getting ready and most of the ride to the studio thinking about it- wasting my time.  
"What're you thinkin' about, Laynee?" George asked before pulling into the studio. "You've got that deep far-off look in your eyes."  
"My baby," I admitted to him as he stopped the car. I unbuckled the seatbelt and climbed out of the car. I noticed we were late- everybody else's cars were all lined up in the parking lot.  
When I walked in the door I saw Paul and Ringo talking about something, Brian staring disapprovingly at mine and George's lateness, George Martin off doing something with the soundboard, and John and some girl- I'm guessing the girl I'd talked to on the phone the day before- talking, laughing, kissing.  
"I'm sorry we're late. We got a little held up," I said rather mechanically.  
If I wasn't feeling bad enough already, seeing John and whoever that was made me feel worse. But I told myself I wasn't going to cry anymore. I'd done enough crying.  
When Paul heard me he stood up and gave me a kiss, resulting in a bigger frown from Brian.  
"Well if you're through holding everybody up I think it's time we got started," Brian said.  
"I'm sorry," I said in the same tone as before.  
"What's wrong?" Paul asked me.  
"Nothing," I shook my head. He gave me an "are you positive?" Kind of looks and I just nodded my head. He kissed me once more before going into the recording studio, leaving me with George Martin, Brian Epstein, and this girl I've yet to learn a name from.  
"Oh, hi, you must be Laynee, I'm Cassidy, John's girlfriend," she smiled, extending her hand for me to shake. Well, now I knew her name.  
"I would have never guessed," I muttered.  
She laughed.  
"You're his ex, right? Wow, that must be awkward, huh? Being stuck here everyday with him- and now me- but I guess it's you and Paul now, huh?"  
"Yeah, I guess so."  
This Cassidy girl had an overly friendly kind of tone of voice. I didn't like it. At all. In fact, I couldn't stand it. But she continued on.  
"That's nice. He's kinda cute, I guess. But, you know, John's better- I bet in a lot of ways."  
"What do you mean by that?" I asked, not comprehending what she was talking about.  
"To start off he's better looking. He seems like he'd be the better kisser- you'd know that wouldn't you? And I'm also guessing he's better in the bedroom- I bet you know that too, huh?"  
"No. I don't know, thank you, and I don't exactly want to find out."  
"Oh, well I'd tell you, but seeing as I've only been with John, who I have to say -"  
"That's enough. Thank you for being kind enough to introduce yourself, but please go occupy another corner," I said through gritted teeth.  
"Any time," she smiled, walking over to where Brian was and looking through the big window at the boys- waving and blowing kisses.  
Did Brian send her just to make my life more of a hell? Was everything not bad enough already. I thought it was- even without Miss Goody Goody over there telling me about how she likes to get in John's pants.  
Yes, that upset me. I don't know why. It just did. How long does it take to get over someone? For John not very long, obviously.  
And why was she allowed to stand over there. She's done as much as I have- which is nothing (if anything, she's being a distraction while they're recording, Brian. Send her to a corner like you did me!)- and she's allowed over there. Just because I'm hated. By quite a few people here, I'm guessing. I can't take it anymore- I won't. I'll have to talk to George and Pattie and work something out because I'm not going to deal with Cassidy anymore. She's made my entire morning just a little worse. Now my thoughts are ranging from "what would I be doing right now if I had my baby?" to "what would have happened if John and I stuck it out and had kids together?". Or even "what would happen if Paul and I last that long?"  
And I didn't like that. I don't like thinking about my future because I know, with my luck, it'll never happen. I'll end up living on the streets somewhere. Or worse- back in America with my mother... And that thought was terrifying.  
After sitting there glaring at Cassidy, who was having a grand time, I decided to find another place to sit. Sure, Brian wanted me within his sight, but to hell with what he wants. I was gonna go back to sleep.  
I wandered around until I found the room where Ringo's chess board was still set up. I decided, instead, to take a nap. I pulled a pillow off of a chair and I curled up in the floor. Catching up on my lost sleep was probably then only good thing that happened.


	54. Chapter 54

_**A/N: Yet another chapter! I'm trying to get through all my pre-written chapters, since I've gotten a few. Hope you do enjoy.**_

(George's P.O.V)  
No, I didn't exactly like the idea of Laynee and Paul once again being together. I don't care what he said happened before- he hurt Laynee and I didn't want it to happen again. I didn't say anything, though. She was finally happy again after, what I think was, a month, so I was going to have to be fine with it- for now.  
Well, she was happy. Yesterday. Today seemed to be a downward spiral for her. And it started with me and that stupid comment I made. I didn't mean anything by it, but that doesn't change the way it made her feel. And to top it off John brings his new girlfriend to the studio. I'd known about her- we all had, but we didn't tell Laynee. We knew she'd be upset about it. Like she was when she saw Cassidy and John sitting there. And I guess to top that off she's stuck in a room with Brian- who doesn't like her- and Cassidy- who I'm sure she doesn't like, or won't like, her. Woo.  
But Laynee was a 'big girl' as she liked to say, and she could take care of herself. At least I hoped...  
We worked through a couple of songs before Ringo announced that he was hungry and that we needed to take a lunch break-  
So we did. I was finishing up on tuning my guitar when I heard Paul exclaim: "What do you mean you've lost Laynee?"  
That caught my attention. I put down my guitar and went to see what was going on.  
"What's this about losing Laynee?" I asked.  
"Brian let Laynee walk out and now he doesn't know where he is," Ringo explained.  
"What? Why?"  
"I wasn't going to argue with her," Brian shrugged.  
"It's not that big of a deal. She's what? 19?" Cassidy said.  
"You wouldn't understand, Cassidy, so just keep yer mouth shut," I snapped.  
"Have you tried looking for her?" Ringo asked.  
"No," everyone said.  
Ringo rolled his eyes and walked out of the room.  
"Why'd she leave in the first place?" I asked, turning to Cassidy and giving her permission to speak.  
"I don't know," she said, seeming offended I'd blame her.  
"What happened?" I asked.  
"I was just talking to her. Then I came over here and sat with Brian. Then she left. I don't know why she did."  
"What'd you talk about?"  
"Oh , you know, stuff," she shrugged.  
I was about to say something else when Ringo came back into the room.  
"Found her," he said, just standing there.  
"Where is she then?" Paul asked.  
Ringo just jerked his head, indicating that we should follow him, which we did. When we got close to the door Ringo told us to be quiet because, when we opened the door, Laynee was curled up on the ground, sleeping.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I was awoken, from a nice nap, thanks, by the sound of loud whispers.  
"Just wake her up," Someone, sounded like Brian, snapped.  
"How? She's angry when she wakes up. She might try and rip me arm off." It was George who spoke this time.  
"Poke her with a stick," Ringo suggested.  
"Or just talk about how you're gonna wake her up in loud voices," I suggested, rolling over and looking at them.  
"Did you have a nice nap?" Brian asked. Normally that's a friendly question, honestly asking how the nap was. Not from him. He was angry.  
"Tell me, Brian, why are you now mad at me for taking a nap? It's better than putting up with either of you two's shit," I said, pointing at Brian and Cassidy as I stood up.  
"You alright?" Paul asked, rapping his arm around my waist.  
"Sure. 'S a bit odd finding a group of people watching you sleep, though."  
"We thought we lost you," Paul shrugged.  
"I wish I could get lost," I muttered. "Where are we going?"  
"Out for lunch."  
"Ah, you woke me up for food. That's forgivable."  
I heard George laugh from behind me.  
"What's so funny?" I asked, stopping and looking at him.  
"You."  
"I don't see anything funny about that. If it would have been anything else that you woke me for I would have said piss off then go back to sleep. Unless we were going home. Them I'd be fine..."  
I continued on with walking, ending that conversation rather abruptly.  
"Goodness, that has to get annoying," I heard Cassidy whisper to John.  
I stopped once more and looked at her.  
"I'm sure it does, Cassidy. I'm sure every single person here is annoyed with me, or maybe it's just a few of the people here, including yourself, but, likewise, I'm annoyed with you, so why don't I just not care while you obsess over how much of a bitch I can be?" I snapped.  
"Are you alright?" Paul asked.  
"Fine," I said.  
"You sure?"  
"I said I'm fine, Paul, don't worry about it!"  
"I am going to worry about it," he said.  
I'd hardly realised that we'd made it outside and everybody was going their separate ways to find lunch. We were all alone, standing in the middle of the sidewalk.  
"Why? It doesn't matter!" I insisted.  
"Because you haven't been ok since you walked in the studio this morning."  
"Maybe I'm not OK, but it really isn't that important, so why worry you, Paul?"  
"Because I care about you, Laynee. I love you."  
"I just don't want to talk about it."  
"Why not?"  
"Dammit, Paul, why can't you understand that I don't want to talk about it- or think about it, or have to deal with it- right now?"  
"I'm sorry, Laynee. I'm just worried about you, and I've been worried about you for quite a while."  
"I don't really think there's anything you can do about it right now, so I'm sorry about inconveniencing you," I said, turning and heading on down the road, not quite sure where I was going.  
"What are you talking about, Laynee? You're not 'inconveniencing' me or whatever you said. I'm just worried about you," he said, catching up with me.  
"Which is an inconvenience," I pointed out.  
"No it's not!"  
I stopped again and took a deep breath. I shouldn't be arguing with Paul. He hadn't done anything.  
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just- I don't know."  
"It's alright, Laynee," he said, grabbing my hand as we headed on down the road. "What do you want to eat?" He asked.  
"I don't really care."  
"That's helpful," he smiled at me. I did what I could to give him a convincing smile back.

(John's P.O.V)  
"Just what did you do, Cas?" I asked as we headed down the road, opposite the way Laynee and Paul went.  
"I didn't do anything, John. Like I said, we just talked for a minute. I don't get why she was so upset,"Cassidy shrugged.  
"She just gets that way. She's always been like that."  
"Well it's annoying. Like I said earlier."  
"But I don't think I've ever seen her get like that before... Extremely angry, I mean?" I said, trying to think back to if I'd ever seen Laynee that upset... Maybe some time with Valerie...  
"It's really immature if you ask me."  
I'm not asking you, Cassidy.  
"She's just been through a lot recently," I said, defending Laynee.  
"Oh, I know, but it's still immature."  
"What do you mean you know. What do you know?" I asked. I hadn't told her anything even when she asked. I'd made that mistake with Valerie.  
"About why she came- the baby and everything. Brian told me after she stormed out. He was talking about how he was thankful none of you had to take care of a baby and all that."  
"Why would Brian tell something like that?" I asked, mostly myself. "It's none of his business."  
"He was just filling me in since you won't say a word about her at all. I'm surprised you've said this much."  
"It's not really my business to tell."  
"Fine. But I don't care what's happened to her or what she's been through. I don't like the way she talks to me. She's just flat out rude, and I'm not gonna take it," Cassidy said firmly.  
"Just be carful," I laughed.  
"Why?"  
"She's a Harrison, and both her and her cousin have been known to cause some damage," I explained, rubbing my face where George had scratched it up before.  
"I doubt it'll come to that."  
"You never know," I warned her.  
"Well I've got you to back me up if it does," she smiled up at me.  
"Uh, yeah. Of course you do," I said, laughing kind of awkwardly. I wouldn't lift a finger against Laynee- or George for that matter. George'd just beat the shit out of me again if I try either.


	55. Chapter 55

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter. The only one for today. I'll be away until later tomorrow, so I hope you enjoy this one for now!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Finally, I was able to catch up on my sleep, and I ended up sleeping halfway through the day. I would have slept longer, but Paul came to wake me up.  
"Lay-nee, wake up!" He said, swinging open my door.  
"No. Go away," I moaned, rolling over in my bed.  
"I'm not going away unless you're coming with me," he said.  
"Well I'm not getting up, so you're welcome to just stand there if you like," I told him, pulling my blanket up around my neck.  
"You ARE getting up," he countered.  
"No, I'm staying in my bed."  
"No. We're going out."  
I rolled over to look at him, still standing right in the doorway  
"Going out?" I asked.  
"That's what I said, isn't it?"  
"Why?"  
"Why? What do you mean why?"  
"Why are we going out?"  
"Laynee, have you actually gone out and done something since you've been here?" He asked.  
I thought about it for a second, and the answer was no. I hadn't actually gone out with anybody. Except with Stephen, but...  
"I tried once," I finally said. "It didn't end well- but you know that. You were there... Actually, besides that I've never gone out. With anybody. Ever."  
"Exactly. Now get up," he ordered.  
"But it's so cold," I complained.  
"Wear a coat."  
"But it's so warm right where I'm at."  
"That's because you haven't moved since nine last night. It's two in the afternoon right now."  
"But- but-"  
"Why are you trying to avoid this?" He asked, propping up against the doorway.  
"Because- out there? There are people out there. And I don't like people."  
"People in general, or a specific 'people'?" He asked.  
"The latter mostly... The former a bit," I admitted.  
"How about we just avoid any kind of people all together?" he suggested.  
I laughed out loud.  
"You? Avoid people? How is that possible? You're Paul McCartney. People swarm to you like flies to honey."  
"What can I say," he said, shrugging jokingly, "I'm just that irresistible."  
I rolled my eyes.  
"But seriously, if we can't avoid them altogether them we can just pretend they're not there, how's that?"  
"I dunno..."  
"Come on, Laynee. You need to get out and do something!"  
"You decide this in the heart of the winter?"  
"Sorry my timing is a bit off." He shook his head at my arguing. Please, Laynee?"  
"We-ell..."  
He kissed me.  
"Please?" He asked.  
I bit my lip, pretending to contemplate my answer, although I already knew what it would be.  
He kissed me again.  
"Please?" He asked once more, giving me his best puppy-dog eyes.  
"Where are we going?" I asked as I began to climb out of bed.  
He pulled me closer to him and kissed me once more.  
"I dunno. Hadn't really thought about it."  
"How 'bout you think about it while I get dressed. Half an hour, give or take a few," I said, picking out something to wear before leaving him alone in my room- and praying he didn't look through my stuff.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
I laid down on Laynee's bed after she left the room and looked at my watch. Half an hour-give or take. After fifteen minutes or so of convincing her to get out of bed at all. I laughed. That's just how Laynee was. Cassidy pointed out the other day that the way she acts is annoying, and to people like her it may be, but it never bothered me. It's one of the reasons I loved her. Just one of the reasons. There were millions of little things that all added up. I could just sit and name them all, but I only had half an hour- give or take. Definitely not enough time.  
I smiled and closed my eyes, attempting to decide what we were going to do. I hadn't put much thought into that. Actually, I hadn't put much thought in any of this. I'd decided when I woke up this morning that I was going to take Laynee out. I gave her time to sleep, I came to get her, and now I'm waiting for her to get ready. But what were we going to do.  
"Where's George?" She asked, walking back into the room as she brushed her teeth.  
"Went somewhere with Pattie, I think," I replied.  
"Oh, ok," she said as she walked back to the bathroom. She still hadn't changed clothes yet.  
She came back in shortly after, still in her pyjamas.  
"You still aren't dressed?" I laughed.  
"It's been- what?- ten minutes. I didn't like what I picked out to wear," she said, turning to her closet.  
"Fifteen minutes," I corrected her, standing up, walking across the room, and wrapping my arms around her waist.  
"And what's wrong with what you picked out before?" I asked.  
"I didn't like it," she shrugged.  
"And why not?" I asked, kissing her on the cheek.  
"I just didn't," she said, turning to quickly kiss me on the lips. "Now go sit back down. I've got less than 15 minutes to get ready now, and you're wasting it." She pushed me back towards her bed before picking out another outfit and once again leaving the room. I laid back down and once again tried to think of what to do, but my train of thought kept wandering.  
It wasn't long after she left again that she came back in- her 'half an hour' had been up for about five or six minutes, though, but I didn't bother to point it out.  
She was wearing a dark blue dress that sort of frilled out at the bottom and came down bellow her knees. She wore a black jacket over the dress and black tights underneath it. Her long auburn coloured hair was pulled back into a high pony tail. If she was wearing makeup at all it wasn't much- she didn't need it in the first place- but she was absolutely stunning. I stood up and she smiled, walking back to her closet to grab shoes.  
"Well don't you look... Amazing," I said, trying to think of the right word to use.  
"Thank you," she said, smiling as she spun around after slipping on her shoes.  
"Why so dressed up?" I asked her as she pranced across the room into my arms.  
"We're going out, aren't we?" She asked me.  
"Yes, we are," I said.  
She wrapped her arms around my neck.  
"Well I want to look nice when we do."  
"Laynee, you always look nice," I told her.  
"Even if that were true, you know, I'm going out with Paul McCartney, and people will be staring- and taking pictures. They always do. But when they do I want to look nice- on their standards,"  
"Well you look absolutely stunning, don't worry."  
She smiled and then kissed me.  
"So where're we goin'?" She asked.  
"Hmm... About that..."  
"You don't know?" She laughed. "I gave you a good thirty-five minutes and you still don't know?"  
"We can figure out on the way, how's that sound?" I suggested  
"Fantastic," she smiled, kissing me once more.  
"Your mood has improved," I commented as she pulled me towards the door.  
"We're going out," she said smiling. "I don't feel so much like a prisoner."  
"You feel like a prisoner, huh?" I asked as we headed down the road, walking.  
"Yes, I do," she admitted. "Always being watched by somebody, always being told where to go what to do, never being able to do what I want when I want. I'm just guessing, but it seems to me like how a prisoner feels."  
"You know we're just trying to keep you safe." I said.  
"I know," She sighed. "I don't know why you're all so worried about that. It seems like one big stupid waste if time."  
"Hmm... Well, I know George does it because he feels more than responsible for you. I guess Ringo does it because you let him teach you how to play chess. Uh... John deals with it because everyone else does." I stopped and we walked down the road, a little slower than before, waiting to see what she was going to say.  
"And what about you?" She asked.  
"Oh, me? We-ell, I do it because I love you," I smiled at her, pretty sure I looked like a big idiot.  
"You do, huh?" she asked, playfully.  
"Well I think I do- I mean I'm pretty sure of it. At least I think I am..."  
She rolled her eyes. "Well even if you aren't sure I still love you."  
"In that case- I love you too," I said, swinging her around and kissing her. She pushed me away, laughing for some reason.  
"Now," I said as we headed on down the road again, "what do you feel like doing?"  
"Right now I want to eat something because I'm starving," She told me. I laughed.  
"I'd expect so. You ate an early dinner then you went to bed- only to wake up at 2 in the afternoon. That's over 12 hours without eating."  
"Yeah, well I would have stayed up longer if certain people hadn't been at the house."  
"Oh, so you didn't like me and Ringo there, huh? I see how it is," I said, jokingly pushing her away.  
"Oh yeah, it totally wasn't my ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend sitting on my sofa while you talked about whatever the hell it was you were talking about." She grumbled  
"I figured it was that, but I didn't want to really mention them today," I said, grabbing hold of her hand.  
"So, back to the subject of your hunger: where would you like to eat?" I asked her.  
"Ha! Like I know anywhere around here!" I laughed. "I'm on house arrest, remember?"  
"Ah, right. Well I know the perfect place."


	56. Chapter 56

_**A/N: So, I said a new update would be tomorrow, but I couldn't wait. I've got about an hour until I have to be anywhere. I've cleaned, packed, and even taught myself the cup song from pitch perfect. I have nothing else to do, so I've decided to post. **_

_**This chapter is extremely long. Like, the length of two chapters. I don't know why it's so long. I don't like it too much, but I felt the need to tell you what I did, so I did. Anyway, enjoy.**_

(John's P.O.V)  
I was sitting on the sofa, looking out the window, watching the traffic pass by, and listening to Cassidy talk about what she was going to wear. I say talking about instead of picking out an outfit because she was only talking about it, asking me questions that I just mumbled answers to. I was thankful she'd made dinner plans later, so she could spend the next few hours picking out an outfit.  
Apart from going through her closet, Cassidy was also getting frustrated with my distractedness.  
"John, I am talking to you," she snapped.  
"Sorry, love. What was that?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at her.  
"I was asking you which dress out of these two you think looks better." She held two up against her.  
"Uh, the one on the right," I said, turning back I the window.  
"I don't know. I like it but I just don't think it's right..."  
I once again did best I could to tune out her voice. To be honest, I hardly looked at the dresses. I just said one to keep her happy. My mind was kind of elsewhere as I sat staring out the window. I was once again thinking about Laynee. I had been hoping to have gotten to see her- at least longer than her quickly slipping from the kitchen to her bedroom. When at the studio I didn't get to see her, and when I did it was as she was leaving quickly. I was hoping that being at George's house she would at least have sat in there with us, but Cassidy decided to come along. As a result, Laynee didn't want to be around.  
"John, which shoes?" Cassidy asked me, stepping in front of me with a different shoe on each foot.  
"The one on the right," I said again.  
"You sure?" She questioned.  
"Yes, I'm sure."  
"Thanks."  
I don't know why I keep putting up with Cassidy. I keep telling myself that it was what I needed to move on, but it's been a good while now and I'm still thinking about Laynee.  
I looked back out the window once more, and when I did I, for a second , thought I was going crazy. There were two people walking down the sidewalk across from the house. I immediately recognised the girl. After thinking about her long enough, there Laynee was, walking right in front of my house. I stood up and stepped towards the window. Laynee was walking with somebody, but at first I couldn't tell who it was. Not until he pulled her closer to him and kissed her.  
It was Paul. Of course it was. Who else would she have been with, all dressed up as she was- as beautiful as she was today. Jealousy surged through me as I watched them both.  
Suddenly Laynee stopped and looked towards the house. I stepped back from the window, not wanting her to see me watching her. I sat back down, but continued to watched. Laynee said something to him, pointed down the road, said something else, then pointed towards the house. Paul wrapped his arm around her waist as they turned around and headed back down the sidewalk the way they came.  
"Who was that?" Cassidy asked, standing behind me, looking out the window.  
"I dunno," I shrugged.  
"You sure seemed interested," she commented.  
"I don't know who it was. I was trying to see.  
"Mhmm," she said, in an unbelieving tone before pursing her lips and going back to the chore of picking out an outfit.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Paul took me to a quaint little resteraunt a few blocks from George's house. He'd asked to be sat in the most secluded place possible- respecting my wishes to not be around people. We were sat in the back of the resteraunt looking out a tinted window towards the street.  
We ate our food in relative peace- that is, until someone happened to notice that it was Paul sitting there eating.  
They stepped up to the table, asking for an autograph and what- not. He was kind enough to sign a napkin for them.  
"Please keep your mouth shut and not say anything to anyone about us being here," Paul said, handing the napkin to the girl. She giggled and agreed to keep her mouth shut.  
We finished eating and slipped out of the resteraunt, waving at the girl who had come by the table- silently thanking her for not saying anything.  
"Now, what do you want to do?" Paul asked me.  
"I don't know..." I thought for a minute, but not being able to think of anything I just blurted something out. "Let's just walk."  
"If that's what you wish, m'darling, that's what we shall do."  
And we did. We just walked around, looking at the shops, talking, laughing. We turned down one road and halfway down I realised where we were. Paul and I were talking- about what, I don't know. Some point I'd said something and Paul pulled me in and kissed me. When he did so I happened to notice a more than familiar house. I didn't notice the road because we'd come in from the opposite direction.  
"Paul," I said.  
"Hmm?"  
"Can we go somewhere else?"  
"Uh, why?" He asked.  
"Well, down this road a little ways is my former place of employment, and I don't feel like possibly seeing my former employment. And, uh, right across the street there- well, I'm pretty sure you know who lives there. I shouldn't have to tell you."  
"I forgot. I'm sorry," he said, wrapping his arm around my waist as we turned around and headed back in the other direction.  
"Anywhere in particular you'd like to go now?"  
"Uh... It's getting dark now..." I said, looking up at the sky.  
"Do you want to go by my place?" He asked.  
"Sounds perfectly fine to me."  
When we got to Paul's house I sat down on his sofa.  
"Tired?" He asked.  
"My feet are killing me," I said, kicking off my shoes. "These weren't the best shoes to wear walking.  
"Well you chose your outfit and you wanted to walk," he said in a sing-song kind of voice.  
"And you were happy to go along with it," I said, mocking his tone.  
"Whatever to make you happy," he smiled.  
"Of course."  
"Do you want something to drink?" He asked.  
"No, thanks."  
He sat down beside me and I laid my legs across his lap. He began to massage my feet, or at least he tried to. I kicked his hands away because it was beginning to tickle.  
"What was that for? I was trying to help your feet feel better."  
"I know, but my feet are kind of really ticklish..."  
"Oh, so your feet are ticklish?" He asked. I could tell by the tone of his voice what he was thinking about doing.  
"Yes, they are."  
"Are you ticklish anywhere else?"  
"Uh... Erm... I don't think so..."  
"Oh really?"  
"Yeah, but I don't really want to find out right now."  
"You sure?"  
"Mhmm," I said, but it was no use.  
He was tickling me and I was laughing and screaming like a little kid. I ended up rolling off the sofa and running across the room.  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I demanded as I fixed my dress. My mind suddenly flashed to John. He would have done the exact same thing, but he never got the chance. I quickly shook the thought away.  
"I thought you said you weren't ticklish." He said, laughing at me.  
"No, I said I didn't think so."  
"Come sit back down," he said, patting the spot beside him.  
"Ha. Ha-ha. You think I'm going to come and sit beside you after that?"  
"Oh come on. I was playing around."  
"I know, but who's to say you won't try it again?"  
"You know I wouldn't do that," he said, standing up and stepping towards me, a smile spreading across his face.  
"Do I know that?" I asked, backing away from him as he walked closer to me.  
"Do you not trust me?" He laughed.  
"I'm not sure," I said, laughing myself, as he ended up backing me up against the wall.  
"I won't do it if you don't want me to," he said before leaning in and kissing me. "Is that better?"  
"Very much so," I said, pulling him back in to kiss him again.  
I was OK until he went to trying to, first, take my jacket off- unzipping it then trying to take it off.  
"Can we not- not right now, at least?" I asked, stepping away from him and pulling my jacket back on to my shoulder.  
"Laynee, I'm sorry-"  
"It's not like I don't want to, Paul. It's just- I can't. Not right now, at least."  
"Laynee, I understand," he said, sitting down on the sofa and pulling me closer to him.  
"But you don't understand, Paul," I said, leaning my head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me. "I haven't told you what happened- before I came to England, I mean." I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to tell him, but I wanted him to know- I needed someone else to know besides George.  
"You don't have to tell me, Laynee. It's alright," he said, rubbing my arm.  
"I need to, though, Paul. I just- I just... I don't know."  
"Take your time, Laynee. You've got all the time you need."  
"Thank you," I almost whispered. Then I sucked in a deep breath before telling him my story.  
It was a Sunday. I know it sounds a bit Cinderella, but I was cleaning that day like I had to do every Sunday. Stella was mad at me because her boyfriend broke up with her. She blamed it on me, but I'd never met the guy before. None the less she was mad at me. That's why I was more than shocked when she seemed to be happier when she asked if I wanted to go hang out with her and Mark- they went everywhere together. I told her I still had to finish cleaning, but she told me it was alright- I could finish it later. That should have been some kind if warning sign for me, but it wasn't. I gladly went with them, hopping into the backseat of the car, thankful to get away from the horrid mess that they left for me to clean. They drove down the road, but not towards the direction of town. They drove the opposite way. I thought they might have had somewhere else to go that wasn't in town, maybe some new place they were going. I felt kind of dumb sitting in the back of that car. I never left the house. I had no friends, and I was always in trouble for something- usually something either I didn't do or something petty- my mother always was mad at me for something after my dad died and she got remarried. The only time I got out was to clean other people's houses because my mother insisted I pay her to let me live there.  
Anyway, Stella drives the car about 12 miles out to a seeding looking part of the neighbouring city. There were a few run down shops- closed on Sundays- and one too many dark alleys. She stops the car and demands that I get out. I laugh at her and tell her I'm not moving. I told her to take me home.  
Instead of taking me home, Mark climbs out of the car, walks around, opens my door, and pulls me out by my hair, throwing me to the ground. I tried to get back up when he slapped me across the face. He'd done it before. Plenty of times. He or Stella would get angry at me, and if I said a word to them- whop- he hits me. That always got me to shut up.  
After he hit me this time, still sitting on the ground, I rubbed my face, and as I tried to get up a second time he climbed through the open back door and Stella drove off- leaving me all alone and twelve miles away from home.  
I stood up, looked around, and started walking down the road in the direction of my house. I was also looking for a phone. I never got the chance to find one because all of a sudden I felt somebody grab me from behind. I screamed and tried to break free of whoever it was' grip. The struggling and screaming didn't help. The man just moved his hand to cover my mouth as he pushed me down one of the dark alley ways- probably the one he was hiding in. He threw me up against a wall.  
"Hey, baby," he said, right in my ear, not taking his hand off of my mouth. "Aren't you looking fine today?"  
I almost laughed. I had just changed clothes into a nice dress. I thought I was going out, though, and I wanted to look nice.  
"Now, I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth, but you better not make one damn sound, you hear me?"  
I nodded my head, although I knew I wasn't going to listen to him. As soon as his hand was removed I screamed as loud as I could, calling for help. He slapped me, trying to get me to shut up. I didn't work. He'd ended up loosening his grip on me and went running, but he was quick and he caught me, slinging me back against the wall. I hit my head against the wall, but my screaming only faltered a bit. He didn't like that, and he somehow shoved his fist down my throat. I couldn't breath, so I began hitting and kicking him anywhere that I could. He didn't like that at all, and thankfully he removed his fist, but I could taste blood and it almost made me sick. My I wasn't screaming then. I was trying to spit blood out of my mouth.  
"Now why are you actin' this way, huh, sweetheart?" He asked. I spat in his face and he slapped mine once again.  
"I don't want to mess up your pretty little face. That's one of the reasons I like you. Now stop acting like a little bitch. I'm gonna get what I came here for."  
He threw my head back and forced his lips on mine. I punched him in the jaw and he stumbled back. I tried escaping once more, but once more he caught me. This time he threw me to the ground.  
"Stay there, you little bitch," he ordered. I didn't move- afraid he was going to kill me.  
He walked down the alley, looking for something. I watched him from my spot on the ground. He came back to me and ordered me to stand up and turn around. He had a piece of rope in his hands.  
"Now look, I can either tie this around your hands or your throat. Which to you prefer?"  
I stood up and he tied my hands behind my back.  
"That makes it easier," he smiled.  
I was scared. I was almost positive about what he was going to do, but I was afraid that he might be carrying a knife or a gun, and he might try and kill me if I did anything too extreme. He threw me back to the ground so I couldn't run, rolled me over where I could see him, and straddled my body. He looked at he puzzled for a moment. I was breathing heavily out of fear, and it grew quicker when he did flick out a knife.  
"Don't worry, baby, I'm not going to hurt you- with this, at least. But since your hands are behind your back, I'm gonna just have to cut the dress off." He lowered the knife to the neckline of my dress and began cutting. I began kicking and screaming. The kicking did nothing. There was nothing for me to kick with him sitting on my stomach. The screaming, though, irritated him. He'd cut my dress halfway down when he finally got frustrated enough. He sat his knife aside and wrapped his fingers around my throat. I continued kicking and screaming, but I couldn't breath. I was terrified that he was going to kill me. I eventually stopped kicking, and I ended up losing consciousness. I don't know exactly what happened next, but I know it involves him having his way with me. When I woke up I was in the hospital. My mother was at my bedside. She didn't ask if I was ok. As soon a I opened my eyes she started reprimanding me for being out by myself. Saying I brought it on myself because I didn't stay home and finish my work. Not too much later did I find out I was pregnant, and shortly after that I moved in with George.  
When it happened I didn't know who the guy was, but when Stella and Mark came I found out he was her ex boyfriend. Stella and Mark had set me up. They knew it was going to happen.  
I was able to hold off on the tears until right at the very end, then I broke down.  
"Laynee, I'm so sorry," Paul said, kissing my forehead,  
"At least you know why I chicken out every time. I'm still all shook up," I tried to say jokingly, even throwing in the Elvis reference, but my voice broke, and I buried my face in Paul's shirt and cried.  
"It's all right, Laynee. If I would have known I wouldn't have even tried. I'm sorry."  
"It's not your fault," I said, my voice muffled by Paul's shirt.  
"I love you, Laynee," he said, running his fingers through my hair.  
"I love you too," I said, wrapping my arms around him in a hug.


	57. Chapter 57

_**A/N: New chapter. Woo hoo. Y'know, I was going through the old reviews from this story, and I noticed, there was a lovely guest reviewer named Pam who I no longer hear from. (There are others, but Pam stuck out to me.) I just wanted to say that I miss you (all of you.)**_

_**anyway, let me know what you think, as always, and ENJOY!**_

(George's P.O.V)  
Pattie and I got back to my house later than we had planned. When we got there Laynee was gone. There was a note quickly scrawled on a piece of paper that had been carelessly thrown to the floor.  
"Hello, George- and Pattie, if you're there with him, and I'm pretty sure you are.  
I just wanted to let you know that, no, I have not run away, nor have I been kidnapped (who would kidnap me? Well, actually... Never mind) Instead, a nice young man stopped by and asked if I'd like to go out, and I gladly accepted. Beats being stuck in a house all day, huh?  
Don't worry, I'm not in any danger. Don't worry.  
Oh, and I don't know when I'll make it home- if I make it there at all.  
Anyway, you obviously know who this is, so I'm not going to sign it.  
P.S- I'm just joking about not making it home... I think..."  
I read the note over once more. Her telling me not to worry and that she wasn't kidnapped, for some reason, made me extremely worried. After reading the note over a few more times it started looking more like a note she was forced to write because she was being kidnapped. Pattie just laughed at me, telling me I was overreacting.  
"George, calm down! Just call Paul's house. She said he came by to get her."  
"No, she said 'a nice young man'."  
"Who is Paul. Just call him. You're acting stupid."  
"Fine then," I muttered as I picked up the phone and dialled the number to Paul's house.  
Ring, ring, ring. I didn't think anybody was going to answer, but on the fifth ring Paul did.  
"Hello?" He asked.  
"Hey, Paul, it's George," I told him.  
"Yeah? You need something?"  
"Have you seen Laynee?"  
"Laynee? No, not today. She wasn't at your house when I stopped by."  
"What? She so she's not with you? Do you have any clue where she could be?" I asked, worried.  
I heard Paul laugh, say something to someone, they both laughed, then he passed the phone to whoever was with him.  
"George, it's Laynee," she laughed.  
"Laynee? Wait, so you've been with Paul all day?"  
"Yeah, I have. I told you I was fine and not to worry."  
"Yeah you did, but... Uh..." I was trying to think of something to say sincere I felt kind of dumb thinking that Laynee was actually in trouble again.  
"You want me to come home?" She laughed.  
"You don't have to."  
"I'll be there in a little bit," she said before hanging up.  
I hung up my phone and went and sat beside Pattie.  
"She was there I'm guessing," Pattie said.  
"Yes. She was there."  
"Told you. You worry too much."  
"You've said before yourself, she's still a child," I pointed out.  
"I did say that, but she's getting better now, and she's with somebody you know."  
"Not like I trust him all too much," I mumbled.  
"And why not?"  
"I dunno. I just don't want him to do what he did before- with Melissa- even if he said it wasn't his fault"  
"You're worse than somebody's parents."  
"I just worry about her. It's not like her mum does, and her father's dead, so she needs someone."  
Pattie was about to say something, but Laynee walked through the door with Paul.  
"I'm ho-ome!" She said as she swung the door open. "And you thought someone kidnapped me," she laughed.  
"Next time don't leave a note like this," I said, holding up the note.  
"Yes, father dearest. Next time I'll write a normal old boring note."  
"What have you two been doing?" I asked.  
"Walking."  
"You wore that out walking?" Pattie laughed.  
"Yes, I did. If I was going to go out I was going to look damn good doing it."  
"Mission accomplished," Pattie complimented.  
Paul whispered something in Laynee's ear, setting her off in giggles.  
"What have you two been doing?" Laynee asked.  
"Not walking," Pattie said, smiling.  
"That narrows it down to just about anything," Laynee rolled her eyes.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Apart from that short little moment at Paul's house I'd actually enjoyed myself. I was happy, really truly happy. And that's something that wasn't a normal occurrence for me. And to add the cherry to the top, Paul promised that he would take me out more often, and he was true to his word. We went out three more days the following week. And I didn't have to deal with Cassidy the entire week. It was pure heaven. But, knowing my luck, that didn't last long.  
It was back to the studio bright and early Monday morning. And even if nobody actually said anything to me I still didn't want to be stuck in a room with, uh, certain people. But I did have to deal with those certain people- one in particular.  
"I saw you last week," Cassidy said as soon as we were alone. "I'm guessing you didn't see me, though."  
"Didn't want to," I said, hoping my very obvious uncaring response would let her know I didn't want to talk to her. Not now. Or ever.  
"You couldn't have, I'm sure. You were right outside my house."  
"I don't know where your house is," I said in the same tone as before.  
"You do know where I live, Laynee. Is something wrong with that stupid little brain of yours?"  
I clenched my teeth and took a deep breath before saying anything. I didn't want to listen to her derogatory comments again.  
"I thought you said your house. That's John's house, not yours," I corrected her.  
"It's as much mine as it is his," she tried to say.  
"Do you pay for anything there?"  
"No."  
"Do you even have a job?"  
"No, but neither do you."  
"I'm aware of that, but I'm not allowed to go get one. You don't have an excuse. Now, why do I care that you saw me?"  
"Oh, well, y'know, I'm not the only person who saw you."  
"I bet not. I walked a lot of places that day."  
"That's not what I'm talking about, dimwit. I mean not only did I see you, but John did too."  
"Not only does it shock me that you question my intelligence- repeatedly- it is more shocking that you don't seem to question if I care or not. And if you have, you must not have realised that the answer to that question is that, no, I don't care."  
I didn't want to know what she was about to say about John. I didn't care. Well... I did care. I wanted to know what was so important about John that she just had to tell me. But I wasn't going to listen to her, or listen to anything about John. I was finally happy once again with Paul, and I didn't want John to slip back into my mind and ruin that.  
Cassidy looked appalled that I'd said what I said- as if I'd confessed to a murder or something.  
I smiled at her as she stormed off.  
I wasn't going to let anything her or John do upset me any more. Or I'd try...


	58. Chapter 58

_**A/N: Hello everybody, here is the next chapter. All I have to say is "dun dun dunnnn..."**_

_**Yeah, let me know what you think. ENJOY!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
I decided to step out of the house for a while. Get away for a bit. Away from the house, away from Cassidy and whatever task she decided to undertake- massive cleaning today, I think. She was tired of my general mess of a house- our house, as she called it.  
It being early December and all, it actually started snowing, which is a very common occurrence around here in the winter, but for some reason I hadn't planned for it, so my walking was cut short when my fingers began to grow cold and numb. As bright as I can be, I forgot gloves, too. In the winter. Great.  
"I'm back," I called as I walked through the front door, shaking the snow flakes from my jacket.  
"Oh, John, you're back, good," Cassidy said, walking out of the bedroom. "What is this?" She asked, holding up a small shiny round object.  
"Where did you find that?" I demanded, forgetting about my numb fingers.  
"In your drawer," she said.  
"Why were you in there?"  
"Cleaning."  
"My drawer? It doesn't need cleaning."  
"Explain," she commanded me.  
"It's a ring," I shrugged.  
"A ring?"  
"Well yeah, can't you tell?"  
"It's rather nice to be just a ring."  
"That's because it's... an engagement ring," I explained. Laynee's engagement ring, at that, but why would you care?  
"An engagement ring, huh?"  
"Uh, yeah. That's what I said."  
I was still standing in the doorway, watching her look over the small ring in her hand.  
"Who's it for, John?" She asked, as she slipped it on her finger. "It fits perfectly."  
"Uh... for you, of course, love. Who else would it be for?" Laynee. Why did I tell Cassidy it was for her? Oh yeah, because I wanted to convince myself it wasn't for Laynee.  
"Oh, I don't know. When were you planning on asking me?" She asked, walking over and kissing me.  
Never.  
"I guess when the time was right. And, that time is now, huh?"  
"Well you don't even have to actually ask. You know I'd marry you any day." She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me again.  
"It looks so expensive," she said, happily studying the ring again.  
"Yeah, kinda was," I said, sitting down on the sofa and running my fingers through my hair. What have I just gotten myself into?  
"When did you buy it? I don't remember you going out long enough or even trying to hide anything from me."  
That's because it's not for you!  
"A while back," I said. It's the truth. I wasn't lying. Any more...  
"Well, none the less, I love it, and I love you."  
"Love you too, Cas," I said, but I didn't. No matter how much I tried to lie to myself.  
"I can't wait to tell everyone!" She exclaimed excitedly.  
"Maybe you should wait," I suggested, knowing how badly it could go.  
"Wait? Why would I do that? I'm calling Brian up now and have him call everyone into the studio tomorrow."  
"Great," I sighed sarcastically, but she couldn't tell.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
"I'm getting tired of Brian and his emergency studio session shit," I announced loud enough for him to hear me when Paul and I entered the studio. George had gone on ahead, leaving Paul to drag me out of bed. It took a few kisses and some convincing, but I made it out of bed and into the studio only two minutes late.  
"And I'm tired of you being late," Brian countered.  
"Be thankful it was only two damn minutes, Brian," I snapped.  
"I'll be thankful when you stop showing up," he replied.  
"Trust me, I will too. Now what are we here for, and when can I leave?"  
"Not like we really wanted you here in the first place, Laynee, you always seem to tag along with somebody, but I have something to tell you all," Cassidy said.  
"We as in who? You and Brian or you and John?" I asked, just trying my best to annoy her.  
"Both, I guess."  
"Ah, so you're speaking for both you and John now? Glad he can't make his own decisions anymore."  
"I do have all rights to speak for both of us!" She snapped.  
"Oh really, how?"  
"That's what I called you all here to tell you," she smiled.  
"Oh, it was YOU who called us all in? I hate you."  
"Shut up, Laynee," Cassidy barked.  
"What did you want to tell us, Cassidy? I've got plans to meet Maureen on this fine Saturday morning, and you're keeping us in the studio."  
"Just look," Cassidy ordered, holding out her left hand. On her fourth finger sparkled a beautiful engagement ring.  
"Oh, wow. That's a little sudden, don't ya think?" George asked.  
"What can you do when you're in love?" Cassidy asked, grabbing hold of John's hand and smiling.  
"It's, uh, a fine ring, really, very nice," Paul said, not sure what to say about it. Ringo didn't say anything at all, just stared at the ring.  
"What do you think, Laynee? You seem to want to talk so much, but I haven't heard a word from you," Cassidy smiled her fake smile.  
I took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that began welling up in my eyes. Seeing that ring seemed to shatter the bits of my heart I've been able to piece back together. After a minute of her smirking smugly at me, I figured out what to say.  
"You called us in here, called me out of bed, mind you, just to glorify yourself by showing off your engagement ring? We'd have seen it on Monday."  
"I don't care if you were in bed with Elvis Presley, I wanted you to see it now, and you did."  
"Trust me, I wouldn't care either, but I wasn't in bed with anybody. I was sleeping- a task I like to accomplish to the fullest on Saturdays. So you will care, trust me. I don't play about sleep. Or food... So be warned," I snapped.  
"It's true," Paul laughed. Cassidy growled at him- like my stomach was beginning to growl.  
"Just wanted you to know that we're getting married, and that's that. Nothin you can do about it."  
"Why do I care?"  
"Oh, you care, Laynee. I know you do," Cassidy smirked at me.  
"You called us all here just to spite me? That's fine with me Cassidy, but piss off now while I go home and go back to sleep," I said, grabbing my jacket and leaving the studio. Pau followed me shortly after I made it out the door.


	59. Chapter 59

**_A/N: Here's a chapter I wrote before writing the past 10 chapters, so I'm excited to finally be able to post this chapter. I hope you enjoy it!_**

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
"Do we have to invite them over?" I moaned. Christmas time was coming up fast and George said he was going to invite everyone over for dinner- everyone being that it includes Cassidy and John.  
"Brian said we had to-"  
"T'hell with what Brian said. I don't want them over!"  
"He'll be here to, so just tell him that."  
"What? Him too? Can I just not come?"  
"You live here, Laynee. You can't just not show up. George Martin might come too."  
"That's going to be a lot of people, George. Who's going to cook all of the food?"  
"We are."  
"I hope you mean 'we' as in you and Pattie."  
"She can help, but I meant me and you."  
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"  
"You need to try and be friendly. You're gonna be stuck with those people for quite a while," he reminded me.  
"I know that," I sighed. "But you lied to me. You said, when I first got here, I'd only have to make friends with three new people- Ringo Paul and John- and I did. That should be five people sitting at that table on Christmas. But, no, there's double the amount of people going to be sitting at that table, and some of those people I don't want to talk to, so I'm not going to, George."  
"Why don't you Cassidy?" George asked. "She's not too terrible once you get to know her.  
"I just can't stand her. She pretends to be all friendly, but she doesn't like me either, so it's a mutual hate."  
"Is it because she's dating John?" He asked.  
"'S more than that, now, George," I said quietly.  
"Because she's engaged to John now?"  
I nodded my head, not wanting to say anything.  
"Laynee, it was hardly two months that you dated. And I know they've only been together around three, but I don't understand why you're still upset about him."  
George is George. He just doesn't understand. He won't understand. Why try to explain...?  
"George," I took a deep breath, "you wouldn't understand even if I tried to explain it."  
Why try to tell him that, sure, I only dated John about 2 months, but, hell, I've realised it's been a very long time that I've actually been in love with him. A good nine months I think. And I don't even hardly begin to understand how him and Cassidy ended up engaged. Not too long ago he'd said he was thinking about asking me to marry him. And now here he is with somebody else...  
Ever since I found out about John and Cassidy's engagement I'd spent a lot of time thinking about that day- the day John asked who I'd want to spend the rest of my life with, I mean (and I usually tried not to think about him). I'd replayed the conversation a million times in my head. Every word he said and movement he made. It took me forever to figure out what he'd been playing with as he talked to me, but one day it hit me.  
He took whatever it was out of his pocket right before he'd asked me who I'd rather spend the rest of my life with. He'd played with whatever it was as he was talking about that particular subject. And he put it up when he told me to forget about it. After much thinking on my part- and I've had plenty of time to think- I'd realised what it was. A ring. My ring. And probably the ring that was on Cassidy's finger right now.  
"Like it or not they're coming over for Christmas," George said.  
"And I get to cook. Oh joy," I said, getting up and leaving the room.

* * *

Christmas Day came a lot quicker than I'd expected. And a lot sooner than I'd hoped I was sitting at a table with nine other people, a third of which I didn't really want to be around.  
The dinner was going fine. The food I'd cooked was wonderful, if I do say so myself, and nobody really said much. Until Brian decided to open his mouth.  
"So have you two started making wedding plans?" He asked Cassidy, doing it just to spite me.  
"Not much, yet. We wanted to get through the holidays first, but I know for sure that I want the wedding to be soon."  
"How soon?" I asked, not really meaning to, but I wanted- no, needed- to know.  
"Not that it's any of your business, Laynee, but probably within the next month or two," Cassidy sneered at me.  
"Why so soon?" I asked in a small voice.  
"Why do you even care? It's not like anybody is going want you there, so just stop asking about it," she snapped.  
I opened my mouth to attempt to apologise, but she snapped at me again.  
"Just shut up, Laynee. Nobody wants to listen to you right now."  
It's funny how nobody said anything. They all just sort of sat there, staring at their food or staring at either Cassidy or me. But nobody opened their mouth. I don't know why.  
I stood up from my seat at the table.  
"I'm just going to excuse myself," I said quietly as I left the kitchen and went to my room.  
I knew something like this was going to happen. I knew Cassidy was going to try and start some kind of shit. She always did. That's why if she was going to be here I didn't want to be.  
I went and sat down on my bed, and when I did I noticed a small wrapped package on my pillow. Pattie was all excited to set up a gift exchange type thing after dinner, so I found it odd that this was here now.  
I picked it up and looked at it. The small note that was attached fell off into my hand. When I picked it up and read it it only had two words on it "Love, John." I almost didn't open it when I saw it was from him, but curiosity overcame me and I ripped the paper off of whatever it was. When the wrapping paper came off I half-laughed at what I held in my hand. It was a pack of cigarettes. My mind went back to the day I'd told him I'd wanted a cigarette. I'd forgotten all about it until now, and I smiled just a bit at how he remembered.  
"Glad you like it," a more than familiar voice said. I hadn't realised anyone had come into my room.  
"What do you want, John?" I asked, setting the cigarettes down beside me.  
"We need to talk," he said, sitting down beside me. I scooted away a bit.  
"We should have done that a long time ago, John. It's a little late for talking now."  
"I know Laynee, I know. Everything's gotten way out of hand."  
"You could say that," I said, looking everywhere but at John.  
"It's too late, John."  
"Laynee- Laynee, look at me. Laynee, just look at me," he said, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him.  
"What? What, John would you possibly want to talk abou-"  
I should have realised from the look in his eyes what he was about to do, but I hadn't seen that look in so long I didn't know he was going to kiss me until he did it. I almost kissed him back- I'd been wanting to for so long now- but I didn't. Instead I pushed him away.  
"What are you doing?" I demanded.  
"Laynee, I love you. I still do. I always have." He leaned in and tried to kiss me again.  
"It's a little late for that, don't ya think?" I asked, stopping him again.  
"What do you mean?" He asked, looking confused.  
"You're getting married, stupid," I said, standing up, about to walk across the room- out of the room- get away from him.  
He grabbed my hand and spun me around, crashing me into him.  
"Please stop trying to run away," he said, kissing me once more.  
This time I didn't fight it. I didn't push him away or try to stop him. I kissed him back like I'd been wanting to. Like I'd wanted to so badly for so long. And after I'd started kissing him I didn't want to stop, but I had to pull back to catch my breath. When I did I suddenly remembered that my boyfriend and John's fiancée were both sitting not too far outside my bedroom door.  
"You're getting married," I said again, reminding him.  
"I know," he sighed.  
"Why?" I asked.  
"I don't know."  
"How do you not know, John? Why are you even with Cassidy?"  
"Brian."  
"Brian?"  
"Yes, Brian, but I can get out of this, Laynee. I can get out of everything. I love you." He kissed me again.  
"But... Paul," I said.  
"This again, Laynee?" He asked, frustrated.  
"I know, John, but you sort of just dropped me off then gave me the cold shoulder- until now. He was there with open arms, and I really needed that hug."  
"Of course he would do that," he said, running his finger through his hair. "I just-"  
He once more pulled me in and kissed me.  
"I love you, Laynee," he said, running his fingers through my hair, leaving them there as he looked into my eyes.  
"I love you," he said again.  
"I love you too," I whispered. "But don't you tell her the same thing? Every night before you climb into bed together?" I asked him.  
"Yes, but that's different," he tried to say.  
"How, John? If you can lie to her like that I know sure as hell you can lie to me too."  
His hands were still tangled in my hair, holding my gaze to his.  
"You could just be here screwing with my mind again. Leading me on when you're really about to lead me off a cliff. And I can't take that, John."  
"Why would I do that to you, Laynee?"  
"You've done it before," I said quietly.  
Once again he kissed me. This time the kiss was soft and sweet, but also sad.  
"I love you more than you will ever know."  
He untangled his hands from my hair.  
"I best be going," he said, stepping towards the door.  
"Wait," I said, stopping him. He looked at me. I was about to ask him if Cassidy was pregnant, but I decided against it.  
"Do you have a lighter?"  
He smiled, reached into his pocket, pulled out a lighter and tossed it to me.  
"Thanks," I smiled.  
"No problem," he said, stepping up, kissing my cheek, then stepping out the door.


	60. Chapter 60

_**A/N: Last chapter for a while. I have to write more, and it may take a while... This chapter is mostly a rewrite of the last chapter, but it's all I've got. Let me know what thou think.**_

_**ENJOY!**_

(John's P.O.V)  
Cassidy upset Laynee- again- and Laynee excused herself from the table. I realise then that it was now or never if I was going to try and talk to her.  
"I need to talk to her," I said, standing up myself. Everybody gave me a questioning glance.  
"I'll be back in a minute I said. Cassidy gave me a disapproving look, but I left anyway.  
I quietly opened and closed Laynee's bedroom door, then I just stood there watching her. She was opening the gift I'd left her. I knew she wasn't expecting anything from me, but for some reason I felt like I had to get it for her.  
She smiled when she saw what it was.  
"Glad you like it," I said. She looked up at me, startled.  
"What do you want, John?" She asked. I wasn't expecting her to be happy to see me, and she didn't seem to be.  
"We need to talk," I said, sitting down beside her. She moved away.  
"We should have done that a long time ago, John. It's a little late for talking now," she said, sounding sad.  
"I know Laynee, I know. Everything's gotten way out of hand."  
"You could say that," She said, doing her best not to look at me.  
"It's too late, John."  
"Laynee- Laynee, look at me. Laynee, just look at me," I said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at me. I needed he to look at me.  
"What? What, John would you possibly want to talk abou-"  
I couldn't take it any longer. I knew I shouldn't have, but I did. I leaned in and I kissed her. She defiantly wasn't expecting it. I could tell, with slight satisfaction on my part, she started to kiss me back. Instead, though, she pushed me away.  
"What are you doing?" she demanded.  
What was I doing? I wasn't exactly sure what I was doing...  
"Laynee, I love you. I still do. I always have." I blurted before leaning in and trying to kiss her again. She stopped me once again.  
"It's a little late for that, don't ya think?" She asked.  
"What do you mean?" I asked, a bit confused. From the way she'd been acting recently I thought she might want to try and work things out.  
"You're getting married, stupid," she said, standing up, trying to walk across the room.  
I stood up myself, grabbing her hand and pulling her in to me.  
"Please stop trying to run away," I told her, once again taking the chance to kiss her.  
This time she kissed me back. I was ecstatic. I'd been waiting to even talk to her for a good three months, and here I was, kissing her once again, and now I knew she wanted to too. But all too soon she was pulling away.  
"You're getting married," She reminded me once more, taking a step away from me.  
"I know," I sighed.  
"Why?" She asked.  
Why? Why was I getting married? Because I was too determined to keep up with some foolish act to convince myself I didn't need Laynee. But I do need her.  
"I don't know," I replied.  
"How do you not know, John? Why are you even with Cassidy?"  
"Brian."  
"Brian?"  
"Yes, Brian, but I can get out of this, Laynee. I can get out of everything. I love you." I said, kissing her again.  
"But... Paul," she said, reminding me that he was still with her, and she still cared about him.  
"This again, Laynee?" I asked, it was frustrating. Paul. I'd told myself before, it can't work with Laynee and I if Paul was in the way.  
"I know, John, but you sort of just dropped me off then gave me the cold shoulder- until now. He was there with open arms, and I really needed that hug."  
"Of course he would do that...I just-"  
I kissed her again.  
"I love you, Laynee," I said, running my fingers through her hair, leaving them there as I stared into her eyes.  
"I love you."  
"I love you too," she whispered. My heart leaped. "But don't you tell her the same thing? Every night before you climb into bed together?"  
"Yes, but that's different." Was it?  
"How, John? If you can lie to her like that I know sure as hell you can lie to me too."  
I just stared into her eyes.  
"You could just be here screwing with my mind again. Leading me on when you're really about to lead me off a cliff. And I can't take that, John."  
"Why would I do that to you, Laynee?"  
"You've done it before,"  
I kissed her once more, knowing that I needed to go.  
"I love you more than you will ever know." I told her. "I best be going," I said, stepping towards the door.  
"Wait."  
I stopped and looked at her.  
"Do you have a lighter?"  
I smiled then gave her my lighter.  
"Thanks."  
"No problem." I kissed her cheek and left her room.  
Everybody had moved from the table to the living room. George Martin and Brian had already left, and everyone was drinking by now. Just like any good Christmas party. I went and sat beside Cassidy.  
"That took you quite a while," she commented, taking a sip of her drink.  
"We were talking," I replied.  
"About what?" She inquired.  
"Uh...Unresolved issues."  
"I thought you'd said you didn't have any of those anymore."  
"Uh, some came up. Don't worry about it."  
"Mhmm," she said in a slightly unbelieving tone.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I laid down on my bed, holding the cigarettes and lighter John had given me, smiling. A million thoughts were going through my head, but the one that reoccurred most often was "he still loves me." I held on to that happy thought as long as I could, but soon negative thoughts came pouring in.  
If John really loved me, then why has he spent the last three months acting like I was unwanted gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe? Was he going to regain my trust and then go and do what he's already done? Does he get some kind of strange pleasure in seeing me upset?  
Questions like these kept pouring into my head, and sat up and shoved John's gifts into my dresser drawer.  
But why would he take the time to come back in here and talk to me- kiss me again- if he wasn't serious. Because, like I assumed before, he liked to see me upset?  
Ugh, it doesn't matter. I'm still dating Paul, he's still engaged to Cassidy. The only thing that has changed is the fact that I am now once again longing for John more strongly than I have in such a long time.  
Suddenly there was a knock on my door before it opened once more. This time it was Paul who walked in. He was slightly drunk, but why not? It was Christmas time, and it was supposed to be a party. A 10 person party, I guess, but none-the-less a party.  
"Lay-nee, are you ever going to come out of your room and enjoy yourself?" He asked, sitting down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.  
"Do you want me to?" I asked him.  
"I'd love you too, m'darling. And so does Pattie. She's getting impatient with you."  
"Of course she is," I laughed.  
"Then come on," he said, pulling me off of my bed, kissing me, and leading me to the door.  
I couldn't help but feel guilty as I walked out of my room with Paul. I hated him not suspecting anything, but I knew I wouldn't dare saying anything to him about it.


	61. Chapter 61

_**A/N: Hello again. Sorry for the wait. I was having the hardest time writing this chapter. It took a lot of useless attempts at, first, trying to write this then other things to clear my mind. Nothing helped. Finally, after not sleeping all night due to my allergies I was able to right this in the early hours of the morning, so here it is. **_

_**When I first started writing this chapter it was going in a completely different direction, an I liked that Rotherham direction better, but it didn't work. So, maybe it is what's in the chapter, or maybe the fact it just frustrated me because it took so long, but I really can't stand this chapter. But maybe you'll like it. ENJOY!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I don't know how I expected it to be when I stepped out of my room. I don't know why, for some reason, I'd expected John to be acting any differently. I'd imagined him sitting there, waiting to invite me to occupy the seat beside him instead of Cassidy. That, obviously wasn't the case. Cassidy was pretty much pulled in to his lap, and they were talking and carrying on like they usually did- except this time they had the influence of alcohol to make them that much more irritating (heartbreaking, awful- however you want to put it.) And maybe it was just me, but Cassidy's engagement ring seemed to sparkle even brighter with the lights from the Christmas tree hitting it.  
I didn't realise I'd stopped and been staring at them, a look of devastation on my face until Paul tugged on my head and led me to the opposite side of room, where we sat down on the floor.  
"Are you alright?" Paul whispered into my ear after a few minutes of me watching Cassidy and John- thankfully everybody was too much engrossed in their own conversation.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said.  
"You sure, love?" He asked, looking slightly worried.  
"Yes I'm sure," I said, turning and kissing him.  
The truth is I wasn't alright. You'd think that when somebody goes out of their way to tell you that they love you, and to try and show you, that they'd try and do something to change, but not with John. I decided that maybe he really did like seeing me upset.  
"Are you sure something's not bothering you?" Paul pressed the matter further, still seeing as I was extremely distracted.  
"Nothing's bothering me, Paul, but thanks."  
"Alright. You're just acting... A bit off..."  
Dammit, Paul. Why is it that any other day you wouldn't notice me not fully being here, but when you've been drinking you more observant. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?  
"Just thinking, Paul. I'm fine."  
He nodded then cleared his throat loudly to get the attention of his three band mates and their girls.  
"All members of this party are now present," he announced.  
"Despite the wishes of some," Cassidy said, just loud enough for me to hear.  
Pattie ignored her comment.  
"Yay! Presents!" She exclaimed like an excited child. She then jumped up and began passing out the gifts that had been placed under the tree that I'd had to put up all by myself- no thanks to anybody else. They were all busy.  
"Uh,Laynee, do you want to pass yours out? I'm not sure who's is who," Pattie said.  
"No, Pattie, I don't really want to get up," I said, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my head on Paul's shoulder.  
I know that sounded extremely selfish, and it was, but I honestly didn't want to be near John and Cassidy- who had finally left their own little world and joining the rest of the group.  
"Ok then. Then just help me from where you are then," Pattie suggested.  
"I can do that," I agreed.  
"Uh, 'dad'?"  
"George, of course."  
"Chess master?"  
"Ringo."  
"Great and mighty counsellor?"  
"You."  
"What? Where'd you come up with that?" She laughed.  
"You tend to try and help me with a lot of problems. And, it's better than 'dad's girlfriend.'"  
"Alrighty then. I'm guessing this one labeled 'Paul' goes to Paul?"  
"That is correct."  
"What? No cool name for me?" He joked.  
"Nope. Sorry," I smiled at him.  
"'Chess Master's Mistress' is Maureen then?"  
"Yeah... I thought it sounded cool," I said after a few questioning looks from everybody.  
"And then the last two are for John and Cassidy?"  
"Yes, yes they are."  
John smiled at me, but after already being confused by him, I couldn't tell if it was a mocking smile or a genuine smile. I chose to just ignore it.  
I was slightly embarrassed by the gift I'd given everybody. Due to my lack of personal money, and my lack of planning, I'd bought everyone the same thing- they were all brown paper sacks full of candy. I'd forgotten about buying Christmas presents until I was out buying groceries and I saw candy. I decided that would have to do as a present for everybody, along with a note saying something like: "Sorry about the horrible gift. I hope you like candy. I'm broke, and I forgot about buying gifts for everybody. Happy Christmas!"  
What made me feel so bad about it was everybody else had taken time to go out and buy something.  
"Now, everybody, we get to open them!" Pattie shouted. Everyone excitedly began ripping the paper off of the gifts laying in front of them. I didn't. I kept my head on Paul's shoulder and watched everybody else- mostly. John and Cassidy. I didn't pay attention to what either one of them got. I was just watching them. They both tossed my gift off to the side, probably not even going to look at it. And they were both back into the happy state they'd been in when I walked into the room.  
I just couldn't figure out why John was acting like this. It didn't make any sense.  
"Laynee, are you not going to open your presents?" Paul asked, running his hand up and down my arm.  
"Oh yeah, I am," I said, sitting up and pulling the small pile in front of me, beginning to open each gift one by one.  
From Ringo and Maureen I got a chess board with a note from Ringo: "I never really got to teach you, and you've never got to see me play anyone else, but here's your very own board. Isn't that exciting!"  
From George I got a few books, not sure what they were, but they were books. From Pattie I got a new dress and a sweater, both very nice. And that was the end of the pile.  
"What, nothing from you, Mr. McCartney?" I asked, turning my body towards him.  
"No, sorry I couldn't find anything for you," he said, just sitting there.  
"Oh," I said, slightly disappointed.  
"I'm kidding, Laynee," he said, standing up, helping me up, and leading me to the kitchen.  
"Your gift is in the kitchen?" I asked, slightly confused.  
"No, I've got it here in my pocket. I just don't want you to be distracted by John anymore."  
"What are you talking about?"  
Damn, was it that noticeable?  
"Laynee, I'm not blind. I don't know what he said to you when he was talking to you earlier, but you seem to be more distracted and more upset by him."  
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.  
"I'm not fussing, Laynee," he smiled, looking down at me "I was just pointing it out."  
"So, what'd you get me?" I asked, changing the subject.  
He pulled out a small square box out of his pocket. Inside the box was a small golden bracelet with my name carved into it. On the back of the bracelet was carved "love Paul".  
"What'd ya think?" He asked, watching me look over it.  
"I love it!" I exclaimed. He smiled. "Will you help me put it on?" I held out my arm and the bracelet. He fastened it on my wrist and smiled at me again.  
"It makes my gift to everyone else look like shit," I laughed. "Thank you!"  
I brought his head down closer to mine and kissed him.  
"Do you want to rejoin the group?" He asked.  
"If we must."  
No, I didn't want to, but I knew that I couldn't stay here in the kitchen with Paul the rest of the night.  
"Oh, and your candy is a wonderful gift," he said, leading me out of the kitchen.  
Paul loved me. I knew that. For now, that's all that mattered.  
Back in the living room Cassidy was getting bored, so she decided to take herself and John home. Not so much as I goodbye to anybody. I kept telling myself that I didn't care anymore. I had to keep repeating that in my head. To even slightly convince myself. John had, in a very short time, once again broken my heart.  
Shortly after they left Ringo and Maureen decided it was time to go. Bidding us farewell, they left.  
A short time later Pattie and George retired to George's bedroom, leaving Paul and I, still sitting in the floor.  
"I guess I better be getting home myself," Paul said, not really making a move to get up.  
I thought for a minute and made a decision I was sure I might regret later.  
"You don't have to," I said.  
"What?" He asked, slightly confused.  
"You can stay here," I offered.  
"Like on the sofa?"  
"No. My bed is big enough for two people..."

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
I was going to go home, but Laynee offered to let me stay here. I could hardly believe what she was suggesting.  
"You don't have to do this, Laynee," I said to her. She was acting a bit strange ever since she'd talked to John, and I didn't want her to do anything she would later look back on and regret. No matter how much I wanted to, I cared too much about her to let her do anything stupid.  
"I want to, Paul. I've told you that before. Before I just wasn't ready."  
"You sure, Laynee? You sure this isn't just about you being upset about John- whatever he did?"  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath- she was nervous, I could tell.  
"I'm sure, Paul. I love you," she said before kissing me.


	62. Chapter 62

_**A/N: OMG you guys I have Internet! Not like I have any chapters to post any time soon besides this one, but I have Internet! Woo hoo!**_

_**anyway, this isn't much of a chapter, but I'm workin on the rest. As always, let me know what you think! ENJOY!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Sure, I'd made some bad decisions in my lifetime. I can't name them all- there are too many- but I can say that have to do with Mark and Stella. Others have to do with Stephen. One of them I can name, though, was letting myself fall for John Lennon all that time ago. If I hadn't done that I wouldn't be setting myself up for heartbreak every time I see him...  
Maybe asking Paul to stay would turn out to be yet another bad decision of mine. Maybe. But for now I was happy.  
"Laynee, are you sure you're alright?" Paul asked.  
The sun had risen and I'd spent the last however-long staring at the ceiling, thinking about whatever came to mind. I'd woken up who-knows-how-long ago with Paul's arm wrapped around me. I'd tried not to wake him, and I'd thought I'd succeeded, so his voice startled me.  
"Yes, Paul, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, rolling over onto my side so I could look at him better.  
"I dunno. You seemed a bit upset last night about something," he said as he grabbed my hand and began playing with my fingers, then my bracelet.  
"Nothing other than the usual," I sighed, watching him as he seemed completely absorbed in playing with my bracelet.  
"So what have you been thinking about the past twenty minutes?" He asked after a while of silence.  
"You've been up for twenty minutes? Why didn't you say anything?" I laughed. He stopped playing with my bracelet and instead laced his fingers with mine.  
"You seemed to be deep in thought, so I didn't want to bother you. You're too cute when you're thinking."  
"Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes. "I don't think it's possible to be cute while thinking. At least not me. I was probably making weird faces without realising it."  
"You were," he smiled. "That's what made it so cute. And you were talking silently to yourself. So, what were you thinking about?"  
"You-us- mostly," I admitted.  
"Is that a good things or a bad thing?" He asked.  
"Hmm... Good thing. I'm pretty sure," I said. And for him it was a good thing. In the time I'd been laying there I'd pictured what my life would be like if I stay with Paul. And at that moment there was nothing more I'd wanted to do.  
"What about us?" He asked.  
I didn't realise how close together we were lying in the bed until I noticed our faces were just inches apart.  
I thought about how to answer Paul's question, and finally decided: "Just know that I really do love you," I said, kissing him.  
"I love you too," he smiled. "What else were you thinking about?" He asked.  
"Oh I was just comparing what I'd given everybody last night to what they gave me."  
"And?"  
"And I decided that I feel awful about being thoughtless about it. Everyone else took time-and money- to pick out their gifts. Like this," I said, lifting both mine and Paul's hand to show him the bracelet.  
"Everyone knows you Laynee, and your gift to them is perfectly fine, and you know they'll say the same thing. And as for this," he said, lifting my hand back up, "You've given me something more valuable than this will ever be."  
"I love you," I said again, smiling.  
"I love you too," he said, and then once again we were kissing.  
There was a knock at my door.  
"Laynee, you in there?" It was Pattie.  
"Yes, I am," I said, climbing out of my bed and slipping on my clothes. I'd completely forgotten about George and Pattie.  
"Is Mr. McCartney in there as well?" I turned to Paul who was just buttoning his pants.  
"Uh, I haven't seen him," Paul said.  
"Uh-huh. Is that why your door is locked, Laynee?" Pattie asked.  
When both Paul and I were fully dressed I unlocked and opened my door.  
"Not necessarily," I said.  
Pattie looked at both of us.  
"Do you want breakfast?" She asked.  
"Yes we do," I said, looking at her the same way she looked at me.  
"Alright. Laynee, you go tell George. I need to talk to Paul."  
"You want me to die, don't you?"  
"He'd be more likely to kill this one?" She said pointing to Paul. "Now, just go tell him to make enough breakfast for all of us."  
She sounded, at that moment, more like a mother than a friend of mine.

(Pattie's P.O.V)  
Laynee grudgingly left her room and I soon entered it, shutting the door behind me and looking at Paul.  
"Uh, hi," he said slightly nervous.  
"Hi," I said. "Sit," I ordered him, pointing at Laynee's bed.  
He sat.  
"What the hell, Paul?" I asked.  
"What do you mean?" He asked.  
"Well first off, I'd like to know why you're here."  
"Laynee asked me to stay."  
"Why?"  
"I don't know. Easier than going home, I guess."  
"If that was the case then why weren't you asleep on the sofa?"  
"She asked me not to... Pattie, what are you getting at?"  
"Take a wild guess, Paul. And if you don't tell me the truth I know I can get it out of Laynee. I'm just saving you from 'the wrath of George' right now," I told him. Which was true. If George actually saw Paul he'd be angry. Knowing Laynee, she'll be able to tell George what she wants him to know and keep the rest to herself.  
"Ok then, Pattie. The answer to your unspoken question is yes, I slept with Laynee last night."  
"Why?" I demanded.  
"Why? It was her idea!"  
"And you agreed to it?"  
"Why not?"  
"Paul, did you consider the fact that she was trying to compensate for the fact that something- or someone- had upset her last night?"  
"Yes I did. I asked her multiple times, but she was still insistent. Pattie, she's nineteen years old. She can make her own decisions."  
"She's nineteen and emotionally unstable, Paul. Why don't you understand that?"  
"I do understand it, Pattie. Just let her be happy for now, can't you?"  
"Fine. But just know that that was a dumb move, last night I mean."  
About that time Laynee opened her bedroom door.  
"Breakfast is ready," she said.  
"Glad your still alive," I joked. "So, Laynee, I'm pretty sure what you've told George and what Paul has told me are two completely different stories, so please tell me yours."  
"Wait, what did you tell Pattie?" Laynee asked Paul.  
"The truth," I answered for him. "Now what does George know?"  
"He knows Paul stayed last night. He slept on the sofa, but I'd gotten bored after I woke up so I brought him to my room to talk. That's why he wasn't on the sofa when you two got up. If either of you says any differently I will personally rip out your tongue. Understand?" Laynee said, glaring at both Paul and I.  
I held up my hands, a gesture she understood as me saying my lips are sealed.  
Laynee isn't much younger than me at all, and sometimes I don't realise it. I guess it's just being around George so much, but seeing Laynee practically skipping down the hallway out of happiness while holding Paul's hand she reminded me of a little grammar school girl.

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Why do you have to be so nosy?" I asked Pattie.  
After breakfast she'd pulled me aside to have, what I'm guessing, the same conversation she'd had with Paul.  
"I just like to be informed," she said, sitting down beside me on my bed.  
"Well what I decide to do behind closed doors is my business, thank you."  
"You know Paul already told me, so I'm not asking. I just want to know why."  
"Why? Why do you want to know why?"  
"Because I worry about you, Laynee."  
"You worry about me?"  
"Yes. So why?"  
"Because I wanted to."  
"But why now- or last night?"  
"I dunno," I shrugged.  
"What happened between you and John last night?"  
"What? Why are you even bringing that up?"  
"Because whatever happened between you and John has a major part in all of this, Laynee. I know that and so do you. So what happened?"  
"He said he wanted to talk," I said, hoping to avoid what I knew I would eventually tell her.  
"Ok, that's what he said, but what happened?"  
"We... Uh... Talked..." I said.  
"Talked, you say? But why do you say it uncertainly?"  
"Would you just leave me alone?" I snapped, turning my back to her as if they would make her go away.  
"No, Laynee. I need to know."  
"Why is knowing every detail of my life so important to you?!"  
"Because you need to tell someone. That journal of yours can't hold all of your secrets because before long someone is gonna come along and read it- you wanting them to or not- and you know that." She was pointing to a sad-looking notebook with pieces of loose paper shoved in it- the result of running out of sheets in the notebook and using any sheet of paper I could find.  
"Besides, I want to help you."  
"With what? And, Pattie, Paul wouldn't go through my things like that."  
"You need help, hon. And don't say you weren't warned."  
"What kind of help?"  
"Laynee, do I need to explain to you what you yourself already know? You have problems just like everyone else, but not everyone else has had to go through what you have. Not everyone is trying to sort out their feelings for two Beatles. Not everybody has had to deal with a guy like Stephen. Not everybody's had their step sister and brother beat them up and hurt more than just them- and more than just physically. And not everybody has been attacked by some random guy in the streets and impregnated. And defiantly not all of them to the same person. Except you, Laynee. You need help."  
I sat silent for a minute. I'd done so well pushing all thoughts from past events that were all but pleasant from my mind- unfortunately that was just about all of them. And here was Pattie, resurfacing every last one of them.  
"If I tell you what happened between me and John will you swear not to bring any of that up again?" I asked in a slow steady voice, doing my best not to cry. I'd told myself I wouldn't cry any more.  
"I didn't mean it, Laynee, I swear. I was just trying to prove a point..."  
"I know. Just don't do it again, alright?"  
She nodded her head.  
"Alright. So, what do you want to know?"  
"Everything you're willing to tell."  
So I told her just about everything. From the time John walked into my room to the time he walked out.  
"What the hell, Laynee?" She asked when I finished recounting everything to Pattie.  
"What?"  
"I'm not understanding why you slept with Paul last night. You just told me that both you and John admitted you're still in love with each other."  
"That's what he said, but did you see him last night? Nothing he said seemed to be true... So maybe I was a little upset, and maybe I'd overreacted, but I don't regret it, Pattie. I don't."

"You might, Laynee. One day you're gonna realise it was a mistake. Maybe not any time soon, but one day."


	63. Chapter 63

_**A/N: I know, I said I have Internet and then I wait forever to post. I'm writing this story all out if order, so it took me a while to write this to start connecting the jumbled bunch of chapters I've already written. **_

_**As I say about every chapter, I don't like this one. In my opinion it's just stupid... But that's usually always my opinion on my work. Hope you do enjoy it, though! **_

(Ringo's P.O.V)  
Since George and Laynee took over doing something for Christmas Maureen decided we'd take New Years. It wasn't a party or anything like that, though. More if a get-together, I guess you could say. Laynee, Paul, George, and Pattie all came. John and Cassidy were nowhere to be seen.  
"Where's John?" I asked nobody in particular.  
"Don't know," George said.  
"Don't care," Laynee quipped.  
"Oh. I just figured he'd be here..." I said, looking over at Maureen. She knew what I meant.  
Maureen kept me updated with everything Pattie told her. It was really amusing for both of us. Pattie would talk to Laynee, and Pattie wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut, so she'd tell Maureen. Maureen would in turn tell me, just because she felt like telling somebody. Consequently, I knew just about everything that was going on with Laynee. Which means I know what happened with her and John- her and Paul, too, actually. But seeing as what happened I was expecting John to show up, but he didn't.  
"So, boys," Laynee said, stretching out across Paul, George, and Pattie, "What're your plans for this year- this wonderful 1965?"  
"New movie," George said.  
"Touring," Paul replied.  
"Drumming," I said. Everyone laughed.  
"A new movie? What's it going to be about?" Laynee asked.  
"The Beatles," George answered.  
"How original," Laynee joked, once more changing the position she was sitting in.  
"Would you stop moving?" George demanded, joking pushing her. He pushed her harder than he meant to and she went falling into the floor. She just laid there.  
"Are you alright, Laynee?" Pattie asked, looking over at her. George poor her with the toe of his shoe.  
"Yeah, I fine," she said, rolling farther away from their feet and into the middle of the floor. "I think this is a little more comfortable than sitting beside you guys."  
"So you're just going to lay in the floor all night?" Paul asked, laughing.  
"No. Just until I feel like getting up. Now, when does this movie filming start?"  
"Sometime in February, I think," George answered.  
"Ok. This touring?"  
"Europe in June and the beginning of July. America in August," Paul said.  
"America, eh? I haven't been there in a while. Thankfully."  
The conversation continued on like that for a while- rather pointless chatter. At some point Paul ended up I the floor with Laynee, and they just laid there, talking about who-knows-what.  
Eventually, Laynee stood up, stretching. Paul followed suit.  
"I hate to leave so early," she said, looking at the clock. It was almost 11 o'clock, not early at all. "But Paul and I have other plans, so we must be going."  
"Plans, in the middle of the night?" Pattie asked.  
"It'll soon enough be early morning, but yes. I don't know what they are, but he's said we have plans. Now, I bid you all farewell. Until we meet again- which'll probably be tomorrow," she bowed before exiting out the front door.  
Paul just laughed, shaking his head, before exiting after her.

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
"So, where're we going?" Laynee asked as we climbed into my car.  
"Places," I said, smiling.  
"That's not very specific," she groaned.  
"It's not supposed to be," I said.  
"That's no fun," she complained.  
"It is for me."  
"Why can't you tell me?"  
"I can. I'm just not going to. It's nowhere exciting, Laynee. Just be patient."  
"But I don't want to be," she moaned.  
I just laughed at her as I continued my drive to the not-so-exciting place.  
"You're driving me out in the middle of nowhere!" She exclaimed as I continued down the road. "What're you planning in doing? Killing me in the forest or something?"  
"No," I laughed. "Just wait a second. We're almost there."  
And we were. I pulled over to the side of the road. We weren't anywhere really. Just out in the woods.  
"You're really going to kill me," she muttered.  
"I would have already done that if I was going to," I said, leaning over and pressing my lips against hers. "Now, pass me that torch under your feet and that blanket off the back seat. And get out of the car. Don't be scared."  
"You're being bossy."  
"Sorry. I just want to get there before midnight."  
"That's over half an hour."  
"Just come here."  
She walked around the front of the car to my side, handing me the torch and the blanket. I draped the blanket over my arm, held the torch in one hand. With the other hand I held Laynee's hand.  
"We're still not there yet, I'm guessing," Laynee said as we began our trek to our destination.  
"Just a minute, love," I smiled.  
"You've already said that!"  
I could tell she was growing impatient and wanted to know what was going on- she'd told me. I don't know why I didn't tell her. I was enjoying this game.  
She was about to say something else when we made it to where I was trying to go.  
The woods broke into a large clearing. There wasn't anything special about it- just that it was a little know-about clearing in the woods that I happened upon one day a long time ago. The best part about it, though, is the view of the sky. This night the stars were bright, and I thought it'd be nice to bring Laynee here.  
Laynee hadn't said a word since we'd walked into the clearing. She was looking around, seeing everything she could with the small beam of light from the torch.  
"You like it?" I asked, smiling down at her.  
"Yes... Why're we here?"  
"I dunno. I just wanted to be alone with you. Nobody around to bother us," I shrugged.  
"Well I don't think anybody will be around here," Laynee agreed as I spread out the blanket on the ground. I looked at my watch before laying down on the blanket. 11:50. Ten minutes until midnight.  
"What's so special about midnight?" She questioned, laying down beside me and rolling on to her side to look at me. After turning off the torch, our eyes adjusted to the star light and the light of the moon.  
The moonlight playing on her face made her look absolutely stunning.  
"Midnight- it's a new year... I don't know. I want to start it off right," I winked at her.  
"That's good enough for me," she smiled.  
I pulled her closer to me, and we just laid there looking up at stars, her head resting on my shoulder. I would occasionally look at my watch- at least until it was midnight. When the hands of my watch reached the twelve I just laid there. Laynee was staring at the sky pensively, and I didn't want to bother her train of thought.  
The wind began to blow, making the cold night air even chillier. Laynee snuggled up closer to me and I wrapped my arm around her.  
"Your hair smells good," I said rather randomly. The wind was blowing and I was able to smell her hair a bit more than before.  
"What?" She giggled.  
"Your hair smells good... Like cherries or something," I said. She looked up at me.  
"It's strawberries, but close enough," she smiled. "What time is it?"  
"Twenty minutes after midnight," I said, looking down at my watch once more.  
"I thought you wanted to 'start your new year off right'-at midnight," she reminded me, sitting up.  
"I believe I did. I've got you in my arms, we're here together enjoying each others company..." I sat up too.  
"You're making weird compliments about my hair," she added.  
"I love you," I said.  
"I know," she smiled. "I love you too... But I am curious."  
"About what, might I ask?"  
"How were you planning on starting of your New Year if just laying and looking at the stars wasn't it?" She sort of smirked at me, already knowing, possibly, what my response was going to be.  
"Well, something like this," I said, before leaning in and kissing her, and soon doing what I'd been planning on doing again for nearly a week. The cold weather and the wind no longer bothered us anymore. We ended up falling asleep out in the middle of that clearing in the forest- and that wasn't too smart a decision, but we didn't care. We wanted to stay alone together as long as we could.


	64. Chapter 64

_**A/N: New chapter. Woo hoo. This chapter kind of spiralled off to something more quickly than I was originally going to, but it works. Hope you enjoy!**_

(George's P.O.V)  
It was New Year's Day. I hadn't gone to sleep until the early hours of the morning. A knock on the door at ten in the morning was not what I'd been wanting. I was actually planning on sleeping in a lot later. But no. There was a persistent knocking at the door.  
It didn't even stir Pattie. I crawled out of bed, threw on my jeans, then went to see who could be bothering me.  
When I opened the door there stood Paul, holding a sleeping Laynee. My first thought was of how the scene reminded me of a time many months before when John brought Laynee home like this. The second thought was that I'd thought Laynee'd come home last night- or this morning or whatever. She had a key. But she didn't come home, and she'd been out with Paul- all night- and that kind of worried me.  
"Where have you two been?" I asked.  
"Just let me put her down real quick, George. She's not heavy, but I've been out there for ten minutes," Paul said as he stepped into the house and laid Laynee down on the sofa.  
"I was sleeping," I said, crossing my arms across my chest.  
"Yeah? Well she's running a temperature, so I'd be more concerned with that."  
"What? A temperature?"  
"A fever, George."  
"I know what it is," I snapped. "I meant what do you mean- how?"  
"I don't know how one catches fever. All I know is she's at about 102- or she was when I checked at my house when I stopped to get a blanket for her."  
"When you stopped by your house? Where were you then?" I once again tried to get out of him where they'd been all night.  
"We were out in the forest," he said, continuously glancing at Laynee's sleeping figure.  
"The forest?!"  
"Yeah. There's a nice spot there to lay down and look at the stars..."  
"You stayed out all night looking at the stars? Do you know how cold it is out there?"  
"I'm aware of the current conditions of the weather, George. And yes, we were looking at the stars, and then we, uh, fell asleep. I didn't mean to be out all night, if that helps at all."  
"Considering the fact that, thanks to you two camping out under the stars, Laynee's caught a cold or something, that thought doesn't help."  
"You don't catch a could from being out in the cold. A cold is just a virus," Paul said.  
"Who- cares?!"  
"What're you yelling about?" Pattie asked, coming out of my room, down the hallway, and into the living room.  
"Sorry, did I wake you?" I asked her.  
"Not really. Is she ok?" She looked over at Laynee.  
"Does she look ok?" I asked.  
Pattie walked over to Laynee and placed the back of her hand to Laynee's forehead. She got up, went to the bathroom, and brought back a wet rag.  
"Put this on her forehead, and don't keep her so wrapped up," she said, tossing the rag to Paul as she headed into the kitchen.  
Paul uncovered Laynee and placed the rag on her head. I stood there watching him.  
Pattie came back into the room, holding a glass of something in one hand and a piece of toast she was eating in the other.  
"Get her to drink this when she wakes up," she said to Paul.  
"And, George, you're coming with me. You need groceries. Paul can take care of Laynee."  
"What?"  
"Just come on," she ordered.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
"Laynee, wake up. Laynee, baby, please wake up. You've been asleep forever!" It was Paul. He was kneeling- or sitting- near my face. I could feel his breath close to my face. He was also placing a rag on my head- adding to the fact that I was already freezing.  
"Why the hell is is so cold?" I muttered, slowly opening my eyes.  
"Ah! You're awake!" Paul said, jumping up.  
"I am now. And you didn't answer my question." There was a blanket sitting at my feet and I pulled it up around me.  
"It's because you're sick," Paul said.  
"That explains why I feel like shit," I said, turning away from his as I began to cough.  
"Yeah, you've been doing that all day. Here, drink this."  
He handed me a glass full of something.  
"Why?"  
"Because Pattie said to. She also said dont cover up like that."  
"She's not here."  
"I know, but at least drink it. It's supposed to help... I guess. I don't know."  
"Fine," I said, taking the glass and drinking it. Paul laughed at the expression I made when I drank it, shoving the glass back into his hand.  
"Is it that bad?" He laughed.  
"Awful," I said, sticking out my tongue as if that'd help get the taste away. "What was that?"  
"No clue," he shrugged, moving my legs out of his way so he could sit down. I laid them across his lap. "So, what happened?"  
"What'd you mean?"  
"Well last thing I remember we were out in the forest and now I'm at home on the sofa..."  
"Well, I know that last night we finally went to sleep, but you went to sleep without your coat or shoes on," he looked over at me as if to say that was the reason for my sickness.  
"Hey, you took them off," I reminded him, "and I wasn't going through the trouble of putting them back on too. I was already comfortable."  
"Ok then. I guess you could blame me."  
"Well you brought me out there in the first place."  
"Fine. Back to what happened. I woke up and you were coughing- like you are now- and shivering. I went to put the rest of your clothes back on and realised that you were quite the opposite of cold. I wrapped you up in the blanket since I figured you felt cold, y'know, 'cause when I have a fever I feel like I'm going to freeze."  
I nodded in agreement. I was still extremely cold, but a touch of my face would beg to differ.  
"I stopped by my house since it was closest and picked up another blanket and checked to see how high your temperature was, and then I brought you here. George yelled a bit, Pattie told us what to do, then they left and I've been waiting for you to wake up."  
"You don't catch a cold from being out in the cold," I said, coughing once more. "It's a virus or something."  
"I know. I don't know how you could have caught a virus, though."  
"Oh, I do."  
Paul gave me a questioning look, so I elaborated.  
"I went shopping the day before yesterday," I explained. "I was trying to find a pair of shoes to go with the dress Pattie'd gotten me- then I realised I hadn't any money, but that's not the point- and at the store was a lady with her five kids."  
"Five kids?" He laughed.  
"Yes, seriously five children. All under the age of five. Anyway, one of the kids was running off and the lady couldn't get him, so I picked him up and carried him back to her. But the kid was all coughing and sneezing, and he sneezed in my face... I probably caught it from him. I just didn't start feeling like shit until now. So, it's not your fault."  
"Yeah, but being out in the cold didn't help."  
"Didn't hurt either. You're not sick," I pointed out.  
"Speaking of which, give me that rag on your face," he said reaching out for it.  
"I wasn't speaking of that..."  
"I know, you just reminded me of it."  
I threw it at him, hitting him in the face, giggling. He moved my legs once more to get up.  
"If you love me you'll fix me a cup of tea while you're up," I said to him, smiling pleadingly.  
"Who says I love you?" He joked.  
"Well, I thought you did, but maybe it was someone else..."  
"One cup of tea and one cool rag coming up," he said, entering the kitchen.  
He hadn't been out of the room for two minutes when the phone rang. I reached oddly behind me and picked it up.  
"Hello?"  
"Laynee?" It was a girl on the other end.  
"Yes. Who is this?" I asked.  
"It's Stella."  
My body tensed for a second.  
"What do you want?" I demanded.  
"I just wanted to tell you your mother has requested to see you as soon as possible," she said, sounding serious.  
"Mum? What's wrong with her?"  
"She's got TB, I think. That's what the doctor said at least."  
"And they're treating her?"  
"Laynee, do you think the doctors here even know how to do that?"  
"True. Are you trying to send her somewhere better?"  
"We can't afford it."  
"What about the money Mark and your father make?"  
"They both blow it at bars."  
"Just great. So what? She wants me to come to America?"  
I turned the receiver of the phone away from my mouth as I coughed again.  
"That's what she said. Are you sick too?"  
"It's just a cold. But, Stella, I can't just up and leave."  
"It's your mother, Laynee, and she's dying."  
I wanted to point out it was because they were blowing their money on alcohol that she wasn't able to get better, but I didn't.  
"I'll see what I can do. I'll call you when I'm headed that way."  
"Ok." And that was all she said before hanging up the phone.  
I still held the phone in my hand, shocked that Stella'd just called me and told me that my mother was dying. Dying. Just like my father did. I was also shocked that Stella'd actually sounded civil over the phone, knowing how much she hates me.  
"Are you alright, Laynee?" Paul asked upon seeing me sitting there blank-faced, still holding the phone in my hand. He swapped the phone for the cup of tea he'd fixed me.  
Placing the freezing cold rag back on my forehead he asked again: "Are you alright, Laynee?"  
"I think so."  
"Who was that who called?" He asked sitting back down where my feet were.  
"Uh, Stella..."  
"What? Why would she be calling?"  
Right on cue, George and Pattie walked in, carrying armfuls of groceries.  
"Oh good! You're awake now!" He exclaimed, but stopped suddenly. "Are you ok?"  
"I- I think I have to go back to America," I said, still shocked that I was saying that.  
George nearly dropped what he was carrying. Pattie stood dead still. Paul grabbed my hand as if I were about to disappear that second.  
I still couldn't believe that I'd have to ever say that I was going back...


	65. Chapter 65

_**A/N: So, you know how I said I'll have Internet from now on? Turns out I lied. Unexpectedly, I moved again. So no Internet for me. So, in the midst of moving couches through windows, fixing dryers, and fixing lighting in the new house (plus tons of other stuff) I've been able to throw this together. Hope you enjoy!**_

(Paul's P.O.V)  
"Laynee, you can't go back," George said. Him and Pattie had out down the groceries they had bought.  
"I have to," she said. She was sitting up now instead of laying down. She was more so curled up at my side, her head resting on my shoulder, her face was still hot, but nobody was really worried about that.  
"What on earth would cause you to have to- even want to- go back there?" This time it was Pattie asking the question.  
"My mum- my mum- she's dying," Laynee croaked.  
I grabbed hold of her hand as she began to cry.  
"I don't want to go. I can't stand anybody there. But Stella said mum wanted wanted to see me. I can't just not go. She's dying... She's my mother... I can lose her just as quick as I did my dad..."  
"So you're going to go?" George asked.  
Laynee didn't speak. She just nodded her head.  
"When?"  
"Whenever I can, I guess. I don't know." She turned her head to cough yet again.  
Pattie stood up and went to the kitchen, coming back with another glass full of whatever it was she'd given Laynee before.  
"I don't want that," Laynee said.  
"Drink it."  
"Why?"  
"It'll help. I know it's gross. Just drink it."  
Laynee and Pattie went back and forth like this for a bit until Laynee finally gave in taking the glass, drinking it, and having the same reaction to it that she did before.  
"How long will you be gone?" I asked her.  
"I don't know," she shrugged. "However long I need to be there, I guess."  
"How long could that be?"  
"I don't know, Paul. Longer than I want it to be, I know that much."  
"We're supposed to be leaving towards the end of February to start filming," I said.  
"That's over a month away, Paul, I should be home by then."  
"I hope so," I muttered, kissing her forehead.  
"I need to go pack my things," Laynee said, standing up.  
"You need to rest, Laynee," Pattie said.  
"All I've done today is rest, Pattie. I'm going to go do something useful- something I'm going to have to do sooner or later. Why not now?"  
"Laynee-"  
"No," was all she said as she left for her room. I watched as she shut her door before I got up to follow her.  
When I walked in to her room she was pulling the suit case out of her closet and throwing it onto her bed. After the suitcase hit the bed she plopped down beside it, covering her face with her hands.  
"Laynee," I said. She looked up before standing up, walking across the room, and wrapping her arms around me.  
"Laynee, if it's hurting you this much to think about it, why are you going?" I asked.  
"I- I have to. I feel like I have to. She's my mum. If she's gone I have nobody..."  
"Laynee, you have everyone here. If she goes you'll always have us. You'll always have me." I lifted her chin and barely pressed my lips against hers when she pulled away.  
"Don't get yourself sick, Paul. You don't need to be ill too," she said, stepping away from me and sitting back down on her bed.  
She looked at her still-empty suitcase before speaking again.  
"She's the only one I have left in America. If something happens to her I'll never have to go back, and I can stay here. I just have to see her one last time. I kind of left her on a bad foot, and I need to go make things right."  
"Do you have to?" I asked. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she thought it was a bad idea, just as I did.  
"Yes, I do."  
"Well, you'll always know that I love you more than anything, right?"  
She looked down at her bracelet and smiled.  
"Of course I do."  
"Just checking," I smiled. "So, what do you need help with?"  
She looked over at her closet and frowned.  
"Well, I need to get as much of that," she pointed to her closet, "as I can in here," she pointed to her suitcase. "And it looks to me like I've got more clothes than I came down here with."  
Why pack so much?"  
"I don't know how long I'll be there!"  
"Well hopefully not long enough to need your entire closet. Just choose what you don't really have to have and leave it, then take the rest."  
"Okie doke Mr. Packing Pro. Start bringing my clothes to me."  
I don't know how long it was that Laynee and I were 'packing'- she was mostly trying everything on and asking me what I thought about it and throwing things at me that I was supposed to pack, but I usually ended up throwing it back, but it eventually made it into the suitcase.  
I heard a knock on the front door, George opening the door, and then him calling our name. Laynee was in the middle of trying on a light pink dress- that looked a absolutely amazing on her- so she walked out in the dress. George gave her a puzzled look.  
"Have you always been wearing that?"  
"Uh, yes. I have," she said, but stopped short when she saw who was sitting on the sofa.  
"What're they doing here?" She asked of Cassidy and John, as if they weren't sitting right there.  
"We've got big news," Cassidy smiled.  
"Your being kicked out of the country?" Laynee asked.  
"Your having a baby?" Ringo asked. I hadn't noticed him standing there.  
"No to the first, and not yet to the second," Cassidy said in the same cheery tone as before.  
I don't know if Laynee realised it or not, but she stepped closer to me and wrapped her arms around my torso, laying her head down on my chest as she looked at John and Cassidy.  
"Tell us what it is. We're dying to know," Laynee said sarcastically.  
"Not that it's any concern of yours-"  
"If you came here to tell me it must be."  
Cassidy glared at Laynee.  
"Continue."  
"We just wanted to let everyone know that we've set the date of our wedding. It'll be the first of February."  
Laynee kind of tensed up. I couldn't see her face, but by the smug look on Cassidy's face I knew Laynee was upset.  
"Why did you feel compelled to come here and tell us? Aren't you going to send out invitations? We'd have known then," Laynee said.  
I don't know what exactly it is, but something about John still upset Laynee. Always.  
"You wouldn't be getting one," Cassidy snapped. I don't know why Cassidy was so adamant on Laynee knowing she wasn't invited. I doubt she'd go even if she was invited.  
"Besides," Cassidy smirked, "I wouldn't get to see the look on your face when I told you. Or when I do this-"  
She kissed John rather intensely.  
Laynee broke away from me and went to go back into her room. I caught her hand before she went too far.  
As I looked into her eyes I knew what was wrong, but I didn't want to admit it. She still had feelings for John. I knew that as well as anybody else in the room. I knew she loved me- she's expressed that in many ways- but there was still something there for John, and it still hurt her to see him and Cassidy.  
"Do you want me to tell them?" I whispered just loud enough for her to hear me.  
"If you want to, but I won't be there when you do." She looked longingly toward her room.  
"That's fine. How about you go rest some more. Maybe get some more of that drink from Pattie- or not," I said, seeing her face when I mentioned it, "but lay down. Your fever seems to be going down." I pressed my hand to the back of her forehead. "Yeah, it's going down. You just do what you have to, and come back out when you're ready."  
She smiled at me.  
"You're making me feel like a little kid," she laughed.  
"Well be a big girl and obey, ok?"  
She smiled at me again, staring into my eyes. I leaned in and kissed her, knowing that everybody was still watching. Instead of pushing me away like she had before she accepted the kiss.  
"I love you," she said, still in a whisper.  
"I love you too," I said, letting go of her hand. She turned and disappeared back into her bedroom.

* * *

(John's P.O.V)  
I knew I was digging myself deeper and deeper into this hole I created, but I don't know why I didn't stop now.  
Cassidy decided when she wanted the wedding to be, and she just had to tell everybody. She also wanted to stop by Ringo's and make up some excuse as to why she wasn't there. So, she decided to bring Ringo and Maureen to George's house to tell everyone (figuring that if Laynee was there Paul would be also- the same with George and Pattie.)  
I didn't like the idea, but Cassidy insisted, so we did it, and as I expected, Laynee was upset.  
When she went to storm off Paul stopped her to comfort her. Since I couldn't hear what was said I settled on just watching them. He cupped his hand around her face and stared at her lovingly as he spoke, and despite the sour mood she was in just moments before she laughed. And, oh, when they kissed it was very obvious to see that they did not just love each other, but they were very much in love with each other, more so than had been before. I also could tell, or guess, just by the way they had acted together, that their relationship had... Grown more intimate. A pang of jealousy surged through me when I realised this.  
"What were you two whispering about?" Ringo asked.  
"Well, uh, there's something that Laynee wants everyone to know. Pattie and George already do."  
"She's pregnant again?" Ringo guessed.  
George shot him a glare at the mere mention of it (I'm guessing he doesn't really know about Laynee and Paul- or hasn't realise it) and Paul kind of blushed.  
"No- no. Not even close, no." Paul shook his head.  
"You're getting married?" He guessed again.  
Paul laughed.  
"Not any time soon, I don't think." He ran his fingers through his hair, smiling at the thought.  
"Then what is it?" Cassidy groaned. Now that the attention was off of her she couldn't stand to be there. I couldn't stand to leave.  
"Laynee's going back to America," Paul announced rather quickly.  
"What?" Ringo asked.  
"Why?" I slipped.  
"Finally," Cas muttered.  
"Why?" Paul turned to me. "Her mother is dying, and wants to see her. She doesn't know exactly when she'll be leaving or when she'll be back, but it'll be soon- when she leaves, I mean."  
I looked at the bedroom door in which Laynee disapeared. Laynee? Gone? I know I hadn't seen much of her recently, but the thought of her always ate up my mind, and I always knew she was right down the street a ways. But the thought of her going always was about to kill me inside. There'll be no seeing her occasionally in the studio or out somewhere. And she might not be with us when we start filming, or even when we start the tours.  
"She'll be back before we leave for the Bahamas, right?" I asked.  
"I don't know."  
"That's a long time to be away."  
"Good," Cassidy said. "You don't have to worry about her. All you have to worry about is me. Why're you asking so many questions?"  
"Just curious," I said. Curious, possibly heartbroken.  
"Well lets go before you get any more curious," she said, standing up.  
I stood up too, and without another word we left.


	66. Chapter 66

_**A/N: Hey you guys! Sorry I've been gone so long. I haven't had Internet and I haven't really been in te mood to write. Mostly because I've been at band camp all week and I've got the Beach Boys muck in my head thanks to the music we're playing. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Time for me to go came sooner than I was hoping. I put it off as long as I could, but when Stella called asking me where I was I knew I had to go. My suitcase had been packed for over a week. I just didn't want to leave.  
"You're really leaving then, aren't you?" Paul asked as he drove me to the airport.  
"Yes," I sighed.  
"Do you have to?"  
"Yes," I sighed again.  
"Are you sure you have to?"  
"Yes, Paul. I have to. I'll be back sometime soon. At least I hope..."  
"Don't say that."  
"Say what? That I hope I'm back soon?"  
"No. Just don't make it sound like you won't be coming back. I don't like that."  
"Neither do I!"  
The rest of the ride to the airport was silent. George, Pattie, Ringo, Maureen, and even John agreed to show up at the airport. Cassidy wasn't there, and I was thankful. I was shocked, though, to even see John there, but I found that, frankly, I didn't care.  
"Laynee?" Paul said as he pulled the car into the parking spot at the airport.  
"Yes?" I looked over to him.  
"You know John is here, right?" He asked.  
"Yeah. We talked about it already," I replied, not quite sure why he was telling me.  
"I know. I just wanted to tell you that he said he wants to talk to you."  
"Uh... Ok..." I said, unbuckling my seat belt.  
"Just... Don't let him upset you, alright, love?"  
"Don't worry, Paul," I smiled at him. "He's the least of my worries right now."  
But I was curious. What would John want to talk about now? He kind of covered everything last time- and ruined it.  
Paul and I walked hand-in-hand into the airport where everybody else was waiting- my flight didn't leave for about half an hour.  
When John saw me he called me off to a small empty room. A small empty room without windows.  
"John, what do you want?" I asked.  
I was completely caught off guard when he took one stride across the room towards me and pulled me into a kiss. I pushed him away quickly.  
"John! You can't keep doing that!" I exclaimed.  
"Laynee-" he moaned.  
"John, no. I'm not doing this again. Not now."  
"But, Laynee... I..."  
"John, look, you told me when you left me you told me there could be no us if there was anything between Paul and I. And, John, there is defiantly something there, if you haven't noticed. And I don't want to end. I don't."  
He stepped back, crossed his arms across his chest, and didn't say anything. I took that opportunity to continue on with what I was saying.  
"Maybe, just maybe, there could have been an us if you'd have waited before running off and finding Cassidy. We could have worked things out then. Not now. I've got too much to deal with now."  
Still he said nothing. He just, once again, stepped forward and kissed me, resisting me when I tried to push him away.  
"If that's what you have to say, Laynee, let this be goodbye."  
He walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  
Dammit, John, why do you have to do that?  
I exited the room myself, knowing that I was about to say goodbye for- what seemed like, for some odd reason- a long time. I felt like it was going to be forever before I saw any of them again. I don't know where John went. I asked Paul and he said he didn't know either. He said he'd stormed off as soon as he left the room.  
Paul looked at his watch.  
"Not much time before you'll be having to get on that plane and go," he said sadly.  
"Don't remind me," I mentioned.  
I turned to Ringo, taking a deep breath before I said goodbye.  
"Now, Ringo, you need to brush up on your chess skills so you can show me how a real chess match is played. And you, Maureen, don't let him injure his hands. He needs those to play chess... And the drums... Since that's his job..." They both smiled at me before pulling me into a hug.  
"I'm gonna miss you," Ringo said.  
"I'll be back before you know it," I replied. Then I turned to Pattie.  
"I'm gonna have to tell everything to my journal now, I guess. You won't always be in the next room."  
"You can always write," she said. Everyone agreed.  
"I can always do that," I agreed.  
She hugged me too.  
"Dad," I said, turning to George. "Do you have my ticket?" He laughed.  
He'd bought my ticket, much to my opposition, and he wanted to buy my ticket back, but I convinced him to let me do that. I had some U.S. money still saved from my trip over here. It was stashed safely in the pocket of my coat.  
"What'm I gonna do without you around?" I joked.  
"Be a big girl," he joked along with me, pulling me into a hug just as everyone else had.  
"Be safe."  
"I will."  
Lastly, I turned to Paul. I didn't say anything and neither did he. He pulled me into a hug.  
"I love you," he whispered.  
"I love you too," I said, my voice cracking a bit. I realised that this was the last time in who-knows-how-long that I'd be able to hear him say that, and that was just about as bad for me as having to go back to America was.  
Paul lifted my head towards him and kissed me. I more-than-willingly kissed him back as if I'd never see him again, and at this point I felt like I never would.  
He pulled back, looking at his watch.  
"You've gotta go, Laynee."  
I kissed him once again, hugged everyone once more, kissed Paul again, grabbed my carry-on bag - George had taken my other bags before I'd gotten there- and left to board the plane.  
I had no clue what I was getting myself into.


	67. Chapter 67

**_A/N: Yay! I was able to stay up late and get up early enough to finish this before I have to go. It'll be a while before I post again. I get to go back to the world of No Internet again, and I'm not too sure I'm looking forward to it. Oh! And I have to start school on the 19! Where in the world has summer gone? I thought it'd just started! _**

**_Any-who, here's the next chapter. As always, let me know what you think, and please enjoy!_**

(Paul's P.O.V)  
Pattie, George, Ringo, Maureen, and myself all watched as Laynee boarded the plane. She turned one last time to say goodbye and then she was gone. I was thankful that nobody yet realised who we were. Someone was bound to notice sooner or later, but I hoped it'd be later. I was too busy realising that Laynee was actually gone, and nobody knew when she'd return- as soon as possible, of course, but when would that be? This was the first time in about eleven months she'll be gone- and a good majority of those eleven months I'd been with Laynee. And now she's going away. I could hardly believe it...  
There was a scream heard from somewhere nearby, and then someone shouting: "Oh my god! Look! It's the Beatles!" And I knew then that we'd best be going.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
The plane ride back to America was nothing great. Awful, actually. Just long and tiresome. I sat next to an old man who decided to use my shoulder as a pillow, resulting in the sleeve of my coat being soaked in drool. The flight attendant happened to know who I was- or who I'd been with before I'd gotten on to the plane- and she seemed to especially despise me (just add her to the list, I guess.) And the man on my other side was drunk and trying his best to flirt- which was both unsuccessful and slightly creepy.  
When the plane landed and I'd gotten my suitcase I'd expected to find Stella waiting to pick me up like she'd promised me over the phone when I'd called her and told her when I was coming.. I don't know why I expected her to keep any kind of promise, but I was hoping she'd be there. She wasn't. She was nowhere to be seen. I waited a good hour for her, but she didn't show. I didn't want to get a cab. It was late, and the house was nowhere near the airport. The cab fee would be crazy. But I wasn't going to walk, so I ended up taking the cab anyway.  
After much convincing and just about all of the money I'd had in my pocket, and after much opposition to the cab driver, I made it to my former home. I paid the driver, grabbed my bags, and walked up the front steps. Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door. No response. Way to kill the suspense. I sat my bags down, looked in the usual spot for the spare key, found it, unlocked the door and stepped inside.  
"I'm here," I announced, slightly irritated. "No thanks to anyone in this house!" I slammed the door behind me.  
"Shhh," Stella said coming out of her room. "Some people are trying to sleep."  
"And some people are trying to get here from the damn airport!" I snapped, but stopped suddenly when I got a full view of Stella.  
"Y-you're- you're-"  
"Pregnant," she smiled.  
"Uh-huh... How did I get thrown out in the streets and you get to sit around here? Not like I'm complaining or anything, since I like it so much better out there, but that still doesn't seem any fair." I was still irritated about the stupid airport.  
"Because I'm going to marry the father of my child," she explained rather matter-of-factly.  
"Oh, and I'm a bad person for not doing that? Thanks."  
"That's not what I'm saying."  
"Sure...When will I get to meet this... Lucky guy?"  
"Soon enough," she smiled oddly.  
"Uh, ok...? Where's mum?"  
"Sleeping."  
"It is late, huh? When can I see her, y'know, since it's so urgent that I be here?"  
"Soon enough," she said again. "Tomorrow for sure. She needs her rest."  
"Alright then... Where's Mark?"  
"Dunno," she shrugged, sitting down.  
"Your father?"  
"With Mark, probably."  
"Ah, that would make sense..." I was feeling a bit awkward standing here having an almost normal conversation with Stella. The last time we'd talked her brother tried to kill me.  
"Where can I put my stuff?" I asked. There wasn't much, but I wasn't leaving it in the floor.  
"The nursery- your old room. Your bed is still in the corner."  
The nursery. Maybe she just doesn't understand how cruel she is... Or maybe it's intentional...  
I walked into my former room. My bed was shoved messily into the far corner. The only start of a nursery was a crib-much like the one I'd had- laying in the middle of the floor.  
I couldn't help but feel jealous. Stella helped take away the only thing I'd been living for for seven months, and now she is getting to have what I can't. It wasn't fair!  
I laid my bags down on the bed and emptied my pockets of the leftover money I had- a handful of change was all that was left, isn't that exciting!- when Stella called me.  
"What?" I moaned stepping out of my room.  
"I want you to meet my fiancé."  
"Who is i-" I didn't finish what I was going to say. When I entered the room and saw who was standing there I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I could hardly breath. The worst memories of my life flashed before my eyes, and once again I was terrified.  
"Laynee, you remember Max, don't you? I'm sure you two hadn't been formally introduced then..." She was smiling smugly, knowing she'd just defeated me.  
"I-I-I remember him," I stuttered.  
"Nice to see you again," he smiled at me. It was a sickening smile.  
"Y-you're engaged?"  
"Yeah. For a few months now," Max wrapped his arm around Stella's shoulder, still smiling at me.  
"Why?" I asked. I still hadn't moved. I seriously thought I couldn't.  
"Because we love each other," Stella said.  
Oh, yes, Stella, because love is letting your then ex boyfriend have his way with your step-sister and get her pregnant. You may think you love him, but he doesn't love you, Stella, I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me.  
"Where's the baby, baby?" Max asked. "I heard I'm already supposed to be a dad."  
"You can ask your fiancée about that," I said quietly, appalled that he would even bring up something like that.  
I was quickly realising this America trip was turning out to be a bad idea...  
"I'm going to bed," I announced, finding the courage to move.  
"I'll catch you later," Max winked at me. The terror rose slowly once again. I couldn't help it. This really was a bad idea.  
I pulled out a pen and a piece of paper, and I planned on writing Paul a letter to tell him the basics of my trip so far: I'm here, I'm broke, I'm terrified, I'm ready to come home but can't because I have my reasons for being here. I just wanted to talk to him. I couldn't call him- I need money to make long distance calls- but I needed to talk to him somehow. I wanted to hear his voice. Wrap my arms around him. Feel the touch of his lips against mine and have him tell me everything is gonna be alright. But he was all the way across the damn ocean.  
I planned on writing that letter before I'd gone to sleep, but after sitting there fighting back the tears and ignoring the fact that I wanted to scream like hell, I realised that I wasn't going to be able to write that letter yet. I'd just have to wait until morning.  
I turned off the light and climbed in bed, praying that when I woke up everything would be back the way things were when I woke up yesterday morning. Of course they wouldn't. My life doesn't work that way. But I could hope and pray, couldn't I?


	68. Chapter 68

_**A/N: If this chapter is absolute shit then I blame it on writing it in just about an hour or a little more. I wanted to post one now and then tomorrow while I'm in range of Internet, so it may be a little rushed. But I do hope that you enjoy it, and let me know what you think. ENJOY!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I slept dreamlessly that night after crying myself to sleep. I would have slept a lot longer- I was more than tired- but I was woken up in a less than pleasant way. I say less than pleasant because it was for someone who flew all the way to America because their mother was supposedly dying. For a seven year old child maybe it would have been pleasant. Not for me.  
"Laynee, honey, breakfast is ready."  
I thought I was dreaming that my mother was sitting at my bedside waking me up. She was supposed to be sick and dying in bed. After staring at her blankly for a minute I realised she was really sitting there, and looking healthier than ever might I add.  
"Did you hear me? Breakfast is ready," she repeated.  
"B-b-but you- you're- you're ok?" I asked, sitting up.  
"Why wouldn't I be?" She laughed.  
"Stella said- she said you were dying!"  
"Do I look like I'm dying?" She asked, standing up. "Breakfast will be on the table when you're ready."  
And then she walked out of the room as if nothing was wrong. But something was very much wrong. I just left the people I love and who love me so that I could come to America and take care of my mother, who I thought was dying. But she isn't dying. She's as healthy as a damn horse. So why am I here? What the hell am I doing here? Eating breakfast? I think not.  
I climbed out of bed to grab a pen and a piece of paper to write that letter I'd been planning on writing. I needed to talk to somebody. Paul. And if the only way I can do that is through a damn letter then let it be.  
After skipping breakfast and writing the letter I had better idea, but had to scrap the better idea since I had no money. I was going to hop on the plane back to Europe, but I spent the money on the cab. How did I spend $250 on a cab? My destination was so far from the airport that the cab driver made me agree to pay the cab fare to my destination and the cost it would be for him to go all the way back. Bam.$250- gone. My ticket home- gone.  
I put the letter in my pocket, planning on mailing it later on. First I was going to talk to my mother and Stella and find out what the hell was going on.  
I emerged from my room to find everybody still sitting around the table talking like any normal happy family. But I wasn't happy. There was a plate still sitting there for me. It seemed as if they were trying to act as if I'd never left.  
"Glad to see you've joined us," Mum said.  
"What the hell am I doing here?" I demanded. "Because she," I pointed to Stella, "told me you were fucking dying,and you don't look like you're dying!"  
"That's because I'm not dying." She replied calmly.  
"No shit! So why did you lie to me and make me come here?"  
"Sit," mum said.  
"Oh no, I'm just fine standing up, thanks. I'll be even better when you stop avoiding telling me why I've left home to come here!"  
"You are home, Laynee, and you'll stay here." Was the calm response I'd gotten.  
"I sure as hell am not! I'm not home and won't be staying! I'm getting out of here as soon as I can!"  
"Laynee, stop yelling. I have a headache and I don't feel well," Stella said.  
"I don't care! Go somewhere else. Don't expect me to feel bad for you because you're pregnant and don't feel well because neither one of you showed me any mercy when you fucking attacked me!"  
Stella huffed and left the room. Her father followed her to calm her down. That left Mark, Max, and Mum all staring across the table at me.  
"You are staying here, Laynee. You are back and not going anywhere."  
"I'm nineteen! I'm old enough to make my own damn decisions!"  
"You are going to stay here and provide for your family since you seem to be so well off out there," she continued as If I'd said nothing.  
"Well off?" I scoffed. "You've got more here than I do out there. I've got a roof over my head and food to eat. I've got a few personal belongings, but hardly a penny to my name, so if by 'we'll off' you mean taken care of then, yes, I am. If you mean I have money, then you're wrong. But you want me to be taken away from my only happiness. Is that why I'm here?"  
"I just told you, you will provide for your family. We've been reading about you. It's hard to find anything about the Beatles without finding your name thrown in. I sent you to George's so you wouldn't make us look bad. Not to date an entire band. You seem to have gotten a bit out of control..."  
"I'm a teenager! I'm fucking living! So what I'm living with my cousin who happens to be famous, but I'm living. I'm happy- or at least I was trying to be!"  
"I sent you there as a punishment-"  
"A punishment? What was I being punished for? Being attacked by him?" I pointed to Max. "So you send your precious son to come and attack me as well when I won't come back?"  
She didn't respond.  
"So I'm right? I'm in trouble because of actions that I can't prevent?"  
"You could have prevented many things from happening while in England."  
"You're really making this my fault? I'm here because you don't like me being happy?"  
She nodded, and I snapped. I didn't care if this was my mother. She meant nothing to me anymore. I lunged for her, but Max stood up quicker than I could move. He grabbed my arms and held them behind my back.  
"I like it when you angry," he whispered in my ear.  
I started screaming for him to let me go. He did let me go when he threw me back into my room. I sat down on my be more than frustrated.  
I opened the letter I'd written and decided to add more to it. I had so much more to tell everyone.

* * *

(John's P.O.V)  
"Anybody have any word from Laynee?" Ringo asked. We'd just gotten to the studio about to start work. It'd been almost two weeks since she'd left, and so far no one had gotten any word.  
Paul was sitting quietly, reading over a letter he was holding. I was guessing that it was from Laynee, and by the look on his face it wasn't good. He passed it over to George who began reading bits of it out loud.  
"_'Hey there, just wanted to let you know I've stumbled into hell and I'm not sure I'll be able to escape... Mum isn't sick. Stella lied. She's not letting me leave... Couldn't leave if I wanted to. I've got no money left...'_ Uh... What!?" George stopped and looked at Paul.  
"Did you see this?"  
Paul nodded. "I've read the entire thing a few times."  
"What is it?" I demanded.  
"_'You won't believe who is here- Max. Who is that you ask? Well, let's just say he's the reason I moved in with George at all. Yeah. That guy. Living here. Marrying Stella. Isn't that just grand?... And he's still just as creepy as before... Tell everyone I love them all, and I hope to see everyone all as soon as possible. Tell John good luck with his wedding. That'll be happening soon, right? I can't remember. Yeah, but tell everyone I love them!...'_"  
"Max?" Ringo asked. "He's the guy who-?"  
"That's what she's said," Paul said.  
"And she's not coming back?"  
"That's also what she's said."  
"Alright, boys," Brian said, breaking the conversation. "Let's get to work. We can chat later." Lets go."


	69. Chapter 69

_**A/N: New chapter! Things are happening, you guys! I just want to say that I keep My promises. At least I do my best to keep them. So, JamesWinstonParkinHarrisonLOVE, just know that I'm working on it, ok? I also have to keep a promise about an alpaca, but that'll be another story. **_

_**Anyway, please let me know what you think! And, as always, ENJOY!**_

(Pattie's P.O.V)  
There were only a couple of days until John and Cassidy's wedding. Laynee'd been gone about three weeks.  
It was raining, so George and I were sitting on the sofa watching whatever happened to come on the telly. George had gotten up to fix lunch when there was a knock on the door. Slightly shocked that anyone would be out with it raining so badly, I stood up and opened the door to see a slightly drenched John Lennon standing there.  
"Mind if I come in? It seems to be raining just a bit out here," he said. I stepped aside and let him walk in. He took his coat and shoes off at the door.  
"George is in the kitchen," I said. "I can go get him."  
"No, no. I came here to talk to you."  
"Now? In the middle of the rain?"  
"Yes, now," he said, leading me back to Laynee's room.  
Nothing about the room had change much since she left. It was just a little more empty.  
"Have you heard anything else from Laynee?" He asked, turning from the door he'd just shut and running his fingers through his wet hair.  
"No, John, I haven't. I know Paul's made it a habit to write her everyday, but I haven't talked to him lately."  
"Oh, alright," he said. He began pacing back in forth across the room.  
"You alright?" I asked as I sat down on Laynee's bed.  
"Uh, I think so."  
"Is that all you wanted?"  
"Pattie," he stopped pacing and looked at me, "I'm not getting married in two days."  
"What? What d'ya mean you're not getting married?"  
"I mean I'm not getting married. I'm not marrying Cassidy. I don't love her, Pattie, at all. I never have."  
"What?"  
"Do you not get it? I'm in love with Laynee. And I've been in love with her all this time. I thought maybe I could convince myself otherwise, but I can't. And I can't go through with marrying Cassidy.  
"Hell, the ring Cassidy is wearing- I'd bought it for Laynee. Cas can keep it if she wants. She can keep whatever she wants. I just can't marry her."  
"John, Laynee is perfectly happy with Paul."  
"I know that! I know that better than anybody. That doesn't mean I can't still love her!"  
"John, she's not even here."  
"I'm aware of that too. I know that I can't just stop by and see her any more when I want to. I know that she's stuck in a house with people who don't care about her as much as I do. And I know she doesn't want to be there."  
"I- I don't really know what to tell you..."  
"You don't have to say anything, Pattie. I just needed to tell somebody... And now I have to go talk to Cassidy..."  
"Uh, alright. Sorry I can't really help."  
"It's fine. Just let me know if you hear anything."  
And then he was gone. Leaving as unexpectedly as he had come, leaving behind a note on Laynee's dresser. Despite my curiosity, I didn't read the note. This was something I wasn't going to get in the middle of, especially with Laynee being so far off.

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
So, I wasn't going home. At least not any time soon. I wasn't going home, but that didn't mean I couldn't make myself feel more at home.  
I'd gotten no reply to my letter. I looked forward to some kind of reply, but, no, not a word from anybody. I was find with it, though. I mean, John had his wedding and all that, and everyone else was just to busy.  
That's fine. Really. I'll just go on with my life trying not to kill somebody.  
This particular day, February 4, I was headed to the store, accompanied by none other than my all-favourite Max- everyone else knew I'd probably rip their throats out, and they knew I was terrified of this man; he also kept volunteering to take me. I'd decided that I was going to do something to make me feel better. This 'feel better' something included a few Beatles magazines, tape, and a pack of cigarettes (I'd gone through the pack John'd given me for Christmas already) and thankfully Max agreed to pay. Of course, he had ulterior motives, but I was thankful, none the less.  
I had to laugh at myself as we were walking back to the house. There I was having a cigarette with the man I prayed I'd never see again. I was still wishing this man would just disappear an I'd never have to see him. I have to lock the bedroom door every night just because he's such a damn creep. But still, here I was, smoking with him. In a strange way, it was funny.  
When we made it back to the house I headed straight to my room- magazines and cigarettes in hand.  
"You better not be smoking in there! My baby will be staying in there!" Stella cried.  
"Not if I'm still here," I said, poking my head out of my door. "And I'll just crack a window. It'll be fine."  
She huffed, but didn't respond.  
I continued on with what I was doing.  
I decided to be like every teenage girl in the nation- world?- and cut out and pin up all the pictures of those four boys I've learned to love so much. But first I wanted to read the magazines. I didn't look at them often- maybe I'd seen the inside of a Beatles-ridden magazine once. The false gossip and rumours were actually quite funny. One page, though, especially caught my eye. It was a picture of Cassidy and John, but it was sort of split apart all funny, and the title was 'Wedding Bell Blues'. And when I read the article I could hardly believe it. As far as I knew- me being me, living under a rock in hell- John had gotten married three days ago. But no, e hadn't. And this article happened to be an 'exclusive' interview with none other than Cassidy.  
"'Oh, he told me he never really loved me. Didn't want me to know... Oh, no. He said he'd gotten the ring for some other bitch... I'm not saying, but I'm sure everyone knows... Yes, it's that bitch I'm talking about... Oh, no, I don't care. I'm keeping the ring. And he's going to pay me back for all the money I'd put into this..."  
John... He stepped out on the wedding- because of me. But I told him at the airport... No. That's just something Cassidy made up. Make me the bad guy, right?  
I shook my head quickly as if to clear it.  
Then there was Cassidy who, as always, made me feel like shit. Sure, I can't stand her, and she called me a bitch for everyone to see, but I kind of ruined her happiness. Me. I'd be angry too. Still, though, she pissed me off. I took my scissors and viscously cut her half of the picture up into infinitely smaller pieces. After taking my frustration out on the smaller paper version of Cassidy I began cutting out other pictures from the magazines and putting them up on my walls.  
After a couple of hours of work my wall was covered with smiling pictures of John Paul George and Ringo.  
I laid down on my bed and looked at the walls, and then at the scraps of Cassidy on the floor.  
I may not be headed home any time soon, but when I do at least I won't have to deal with her anymore.


	70. Chapter 70

_**A/N: You guys, this chapter took me forever to write, and I've hate writing it, but it must be written and read, so here it is. Please don't hate me for this chapter!**_

_**oh, and if anything looks funny it's my new phone I'm trying to figure out how to work. **_

_**Please enjoy and don't hate me for this chapter! I love you all!**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Somehow things began to feel better for me. Absolutely nothing had changed. I just began to calm down. A bit, at least. I could actually go most of the day without yelling at somebody. Of course I spent most of my day  
- if not all of it- in my room every day, but it was nice in there. Better than it had been, at least. The pictures on the wall helped out a lot. Also the fact that, in a fit of anger one night, I dismantled Stella's crib probably helped a bit... Or a lot, really. I tossed the pieces into Stella's room, resulting in some choice words from just about everybody in the house. Of course, I just laughed it off.  
Oh, and on top of everything else, I found my old stash of money I'd kept since we first moved into the house. I was shocked to see it still there under an old floorboard. I was also shocked to find that there was about twenty dollars there. Most of it was just change, but, hey, it was still almost twenty dollars. Every penny counts!  
I was determined that, no matter how long it took, I was going to find some way or another to make money and get my way home. One penny at a time, I guess. But I was gonna do it.  
I was beginning to feel better, but that wouldn't last long, now would it?  
I knew things were beginning to go down hill when I was woken up. Three in the morning and I wake up to find my bed, my bedding, my clothes, and myself soaking wet. No. I didn't wet the bed. It was raining. And the roof over my bed leaked. It fucking leaked all over me. Damn broken ceiling.  
I crawled out of bed, changed my clothes, stripped my bed, and threw the bedding and my wet clothes in a corner of my room. I wasn't going to take care of those now. It was three in the morning. Instead, I curled up in my floor and watched the drip-drip-drip of water from my ceiling to my mattress, all accumulating in a small puddle on my mattress. And I had to clean that too, huh. Damn.  
I could have gone back to sleep. Maybe if I'd ever gotten comfortable. But I didn't. I just laid there. And laid there. And laid there. Until I got hungry.  
I then emerged from my room, wet bedding in hand. Why not get that taken care of and eat at the same time? So I won't have to leave my room again.  
It was maybe eight o'clock when I finally left my room. Everybody else was eating breakfast. They stopped making breakfast for me a few weeks ago. I wouldn't eat what they cooked for me. I'd always fix something else. Just to make my mom mad, really.  
"Look who finally decides to show. What, did you run out of cigarettes again?" Stella asked, looking up at me from her plate of eggs.  
"Yes, but that's not why I'm here." I walked right past them and into the washroom. Not only had the ceiling dropped water onto my bed and everything else, but the ceiling was dirty, so it dripped dirty water on me. Even better. Not only did they need to be dried but also washed. Yay!  
I put them in the washing machine and went back to the kitchen to fix me something to eat.  
"What happened, did you wet the bed again?" Max tried to joke. I threw the piece of bread I had in my hand at him, hitting him in the face.  
"You're in a bad mood," my mother commented. I would have thrown a piece of bread for her but I was hungry, so I was going to eat it.  
"My ceiling leaks. I need that fixed." Was all I said.  
"Then fix it," she replied.  
"I don't think I'm qualified to do that." I replied, giving up on actually fixing anything to eat. I took a bite out of the bread and went back to my room, hoping that would be the end of any contact with my family for the day. It wasn't.  
I was in my room creating a solution to the leaky roof- moving my bed and putting a bucket down- when I realised what the date was. February 23. The boys would be off in the Bahamas starting their work on their second movie. And I still hadn't heard a word from any of them. It had been as good few weeks since I'd sent that letter, but nobody responded. I felt really abandoned.  
I had successfully moved the corner my bed was in, dried up best I could the water on my mattress, and left a bucket where the rain drops down to collect the water- although it stopped raining a of hours after I woke up- when my mother called me into the living room. I was curious to see as to why she was requesting my presence (oh I'm honoured)) so I went willingly.  
She was sitting there, Stella and Mark on each side of her. Her husband and Max were standing behind her. They were all looking at a letter from an envelope that, even from where I was standing, I could tell had the unmistakable handwriting of Paul.  
"What're you doing with that?" I demanded, meaning to step forward and take it from her. She held it back until she said what she wanted to.  
"I hope you don't mind, but we took the liberty of reading your mail," she said.  
"I do mind! Thank you!" I snapped.  
"Your my daughter in my house, so I believe I have the right to do that."  
"And them?"  
"They had my permission," she shrugged.  
"Are you going to give me my mail or just tell me you've been reading it?"  
"You can have it now," she said, refilling the three pieces of paper she was holding and placing them back in the envelope before handing it to me.  
My heart was pounding like crazy as I reopened the letter. I didn't even bother going back to my room. I wanted to read it then and there. Forget the people watching me.  
I pulled the three pieces of paper out of the envelope and noticed immediately that the three pieces of paper were written by three different people- and one of those people were me! A slight terror arose within me when I realised that the paper with my handwriting on it was a loose page of my journal. I didn't really want to know which one. I wouldn't want anybody to read any of those, but now I know at least me entire family, and Paul, has.  
The second piece of paper had John's handwriting on it. I didn't know what he wanted, or what his letter was doing with Paul's. but I was afraid to look at it, too.  
The third piece of paper finally had Paul's handwriting on it. I unfolded the paper and began to slowly read it's contents, wishing I'd never gotten the letter at all.  
_"Laynee, I'm really not understanding any of this. First off I want to say that I have written you every day since your letter came and you've yet to respond to me. I thought you'd said you'd needed someone to talk to. I've also tried calling, but was told that you were too busy doing something else to talk.  
I haven't heard from you- your own boyfriend- but you're fine with sending letters to John? Yeah, I've read them. I'd send one to you just as proof of my words but you wrote them and he won't give them up.  
I can't believe you, Laynee. I can't believe you'd do something like that, especially after what he did to you. I thought you were over him, but I guess not.  
Oh, and obviously this isn't anything new, eh? I found your journal entry on the floor. No, I shouldn't have read it, shame on me, but I miss you Laynee, and I figured maybe reading you tell about your life would make me feel better. But no. See for yourself which entry I'm talking about."_  
In a blur of tears and confusion I unfolding the piece of paper with my hand writing on it and looked to see what it said.  
Just my luck. The one page out of the entire fucking book that falls out is the one where I'm explaining what happened Christmas night with John and I. My feelings and my thoughts were all written on the page, and to make it even better it wasn't the full entry. The part where I'm talking about Paul and I was probably still in the notebook, resulting in Paul only seeing this. I knew I should have listened to Pattie and not written it down, but I couldn't help it. I write everything down! Dammit!  
I turned back to Paul's letter.  
"_Yeah, Christmas, huh? And you told me nothing happened. But it did. And you said you're still in love with him? Really? Y'know because he still stayed engaged.  
But oh-ho I just so happened to find that note left by John right before he canceled that wedding of his- because of you, you know. Just read that too. I'm sure you didn't read that yet."_  
I now unfolded the piece of paper with John's writing on it. It didn't say much, but just enough to infuriate Paul even more.  
"_My dearest Laynee,  
I'm sorry for everything I've put you through, love. I don't know what possessed my mind to think that it was a good idea to hurt you like that, but it more than wasn't. I know that you know that I still love you Laynee. I don't know if you believe me, but I love you. I know, you and Paul are in love, but I just want you to know that I love you and I couldn't go through sign this all thanks to you. I love you more than you will ever know. John Lennon_."  
Back to Paul's letter.  
"_You see, Laynee. I don't know if I can trust you anymore. I don't think I'm going to trust you anymore. The events and things are lining up together, and everything is making sense to me know. I though we'd had something special, but I guess there was always something else for you. I love you Laynee, but I don't know if you love me like you say you do. I'm not going to do this anymore. We'll be off to the Bahamas soon. I know this is the worst possible way to do this, but Laynee, I don't want to be with you anymore if it's going to be like this. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to deal with our relationship anymore... Paul McCartney."_  
And that was the end of the letter. I feel down into the floor and cried. I ha no clue what he was talking about. The only letter I'd sent was to him, and I'd defiantly not received any letters from him. How could I have sent letters to John when I'd never even left my room. I looked up at the so-called family of mine who were all on or around the sofa, smiling smugly at me.  
I made my way back to my room, ripped every last picture off off the wall, laid down on my sheet less still wet mattress, and cried. I didn't know what was going on, or why. All I knew was Paul McCartney, the man I was so sure I was in love, just broke up with me. Through a letter.  
I laid there and wanted to just die. Take me out of y misery now. That didn't happen. Just gross sobbing.


	71. Chapter 71

_**A/N: this chapter might be a bit disappointing since you've waited so long for it, and I apologise. This is all I've got right now. School is driving me crazy. (No, not having a graphing calculator is what's driving me crazy.) But I've been extremely busy this past week. (And I'll be even busier if I get involved with the school play, plus tutoring someone and organising a school library. Woop whoop.) But here is the new chapter. I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think.**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I wanted to just curl up under my blankets and die. What use was there to do? I didn't understand most of Paul's letter, but what I did understand was that whatever we'd had together is over. His reasons, though, were too much for me to understand. At all. So, like I said, I wanted to just curl up and die. A permanent solution to a temporary problem, I guess, but it sounded better and better as the day moved on.  
But there would be no curling up of any kind in my bed. I'd forgotten- or not felt like- getting my blankets out of the washing machine. Oh, and my mattress was still soaking wet. So when I finally decided to lay down I did that on a pile of clothes laying in my floor. It was better than the cold hard floor. At least for me.  
After I read Paul's letter I went back to my room, and the first thing I did was rip every single picture off of my wall. I was angry- upset- and those smiling faces on my wall weren't helping. They were also part of the reason I was upset.  
The next thing I did, after taking down the pictures, was burning each picture. Burning them wasn't solving anything, but I needed something to even slightly make me feel better, and watching the pictures turn to ashes in my floor was slightly satisfying. I lit each picture on fire using the lighter John had given me. One by one I eventually didn't have any left. I wasn't trying burn the house down. I just wanted them gone. For ever. But burning the house down could have been a good idea. I needed a place to stay, though, before I got enough money to go home. If I was still welcome at home.  
The next morning I decided I was going to go talk to my mother. I didn't want to, but I was positive that she knew something about what Paul had said. So I was going to ask her. I was also hungry, so I was also going to leave my room to eat.  
"I'm shocked to see you out of your room so soon," Stella sneered. She was sitting next to Max on one side of the table. Mum was sitting at the end.  
I kept my mouth shut and did my best not to say anything.  
Mum brought me a plate and sat it down in front of me. I looked down at my food as I ate. I didn't really want to look at any of the three people sitting there with me at the table.  
When I finished my breakfast I sat back down at the table, waiting for mum to finish her food. When she did she took the plates to the sink and sat back down as well.  
"What do you want?" She asked.  
"I don't want anything," I said.  
"You wouldn't have come out of your room if you didn't want something," Mum pointed out.  
"I don't want anything," I repeated. "I need something."  
Stella snorted, Max smiled at me, and Mum rolled her eyes.  
"What do you need, then, Laynee?"  
"I need to know-"  
"Need to know what?" She cut me off.  
"You obviously know or you wouldn't be snapping like that," I muttered under my breath. "I know you've read my mail- obviously since you handed it to me after you read it."  
"Of course. It's my house I have that right."  
"Federal offence," I said quietly. "Anyway, you've been reading me mail, correct?"  
"Correct."  
"Ok then. How much mail have I received that I haven't seen?"  
She looked shocked that I was asking.  
"Why would you assume that I've been withholding any mail from you?"  
"Why? Because Stella's face is saying so." Mum gave Stella a look and Stella exited the room. Max stayed, though, watching me closely.  
"Why? Because you would do that to me. You want to see me miserable. And why? Because Paul claimed to have written me every day since he got the one letter I'd sent."  
"So you assume I have a pile of letters for you that I've been hiding?"  
"That's exactly what I assume."  
She pursed her lips before standing up and leaving the room without saying another word.  
"You hate her don't you?" Max laughed, still closely watching me.  
"You can tell?" I asked, slightly irritated.  
"Why're you so worried about it?"  
"About the only people I know- or thought I knew- who actually care about me? Just that. They actually care- or cared. And I want to know what's changed."  
Max was suddenly sitting beside me, making me feel a bit uncomfortable. He was about to say something by my mother walked back into the room with a bag full of something. She sat it down in front of me and I hesitantly looked inside. When I did I found the bag to be filled with letters. A ton of them. All opened already. I looked through them. Almost all of them were from Paul, but there were a few from John. I stopped looking through them before I upset myself again, about to ask more questions. I would read them all later.  
"Ok, so you did withhold my mail from me. Now I want to know what Paul was talking about- me writing letters to John? What do you know about that?"  
She sighed, and I knew she knew very much about that.  
"That wasn't me," she said defensively.  
"Then who was it?"  
She looked at Max who was sitting beside me.  
"Oh so that's your fault?" I asked him.  
"Stella and me," he said.  
"What the hell did you do, exactly, and why the hell would you do it?"  
"Her idea."  
"Stop trying to make yourself look better. It's not helping you, and it's just pissing me off even more. Now answer my damn question."  
"You sound so British when you're angry," he laughed.  
"Answer the fucking question," I ordered him.  
"Fine, fine. Stella loves her mother very much, and I'm sure you know that." He winked at Mum. "And she knew that her mother wanted you here. So we decided to write letters to John in a master plan to get Paul to break up with you, which we accomplished." He finished proudly, but Mum looked a bit irritated that he just told me like that.  
"What the hell is wrong with you?"  
"Anything to make my fiancée happy," he said, knowing that's what Mum wanted to hear.  
I just huffed and sat back.  
"Are you happy now that you know what you wanted to know?"  
"Happy? No. Far from happy. Satisfied? Yes. That's the word."  
"Well now that you know it still doesn't change anything. You're not going anywhere." She stood up. "I've got things to do. I don't care if I don't see all day." And with that she left the room. Leaving me alone with Max once again.  
"Do you have a cigarette?" I asked.  
"I thought you were pissed off at me."  
"I am, so I plan on taking your precious cigarettes. Now shut up and give me one."  
"Now I'm not gonna do that if you're mad at me. What good is that."  
"It's good so I won't rip off your fucking head," I snapped. I didn't know what he was doing, but he was irritating me.  
"I think I'll take the risk. If you're going to stay mad at me I won't give you one."  
"Fuck you," I said, standing up and heading to my room.  
"If you want to I wouldn't mind. I'd even give you a cigarette."  
He'd gotten up and followed me, all the way into my room.  
"No," I said. "Get out of my room."  
"Oh come on Laynee. I love it when your angry," he said, stepping uncomfortably close to me. The only thought in my mind was "not again, please not again."  
"No, Max, go away!" I said, trying my best to stay calm.  
"Why, Laynee? You really can't do anything," he said, stepping even closer- close enough to touch me, and that's just what he tried to do. Instead I punched him in the nose, causing it to bleed. He was pissed, but he stormed out of my room, and I quickly locked my door.  
He had to be crazy. Why would he even try that again? In a house full of people. And his fiancée in the next room. Why was I still here. I knew that I should have ran and ran fast when I had the chance. Or even not come at all. But now. Things seemed to be going in some odd messed up circle. And I was going to go crazy.  
I looked down at the bag full of letters I had and decided that I'd try my hand at reading the letters without going even more crazy than I already was. To try and forget what'd just happened. There were a lot of letters. I was going to have a lot of time on my hands if I wasn't going anywhere. Plenty of time to read those letters and slowly drift off into insanity.


	72. Chapter 72

_**A/N: So, you guys, I think there was something I was wanting to tell you but I can't remember what it was. Maybe it wasn't important... I do want to tell someone, though, that my friend brought me a cupcake (red velvet) and they brought it just for me because they love me so much. But some brat ate my cupcake, and I am highly upset. They let someone (the person who's locker it was in, actually) eat my damn cupcake. **_

_**Anyway I'm pretty sure nobody cares about that, but it's important to me... I do hope you enjoy this chapter. Or not. It's a bit odd, really...**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
I started reading those letters, but it didn't take long for me to realise I wasn't ready for that. So I decided that I would sort them out. That would occupy my time for a while.  
Faithful to what he'd said, there was a letter there from Paul for every day up to the one I'd already had. That added up to a nice little pile of it's own. There was a separate, much smaller, pile for John. There were a couple of letters from George and Pattie, and one letter from Ringo and Maureen. Lastly there was one, rater hatefully written, letter written by Cassidy.  
I looked around my room and had an idea. I wanted a cigarette, but I wasn't about to walk through my door and ask for one. And I couldn't walk out the front door- mum wouldn't let me. So I'd just use my window. It never latched right anyway. I grabbed some of the money I'd had under my floorboard and quietly opened the window and climbed out. I walked quickly down to the corner store and bought a couple I packs of cigarettes and a bag of candy, hoping that nobody would notice me in this small town. Unfortunately the cashier did.  
"Laynee Harrison? Is that you?" The old woman asked as she rang up everything.  
"Yes ma'am," I replied, hoping that was the end of it.  
"Why haven't I seen you around? Didn't you move away?"  
"I did. I came back for a while."  
"How have you been?"  
"Fine."  
"Hon, you're too pretty to be smoking. It doesn't do anything for you."  
"It helps," I said, paying her. "Sorry, but I have to go."  
"Alright, well I hope to see you around," she said, and I left the store, heading back home and climbing back into the window.  
That old lady, Ms. Peterson, she knew my mother, and I hoped desperately she wouldn't say anything about seeing me. I didn't want to get chewed out for that.  
I sat back down in the circle of letters, lit a cigarette, and picked up the letter from Cassidy. There wasn't much to it. Mostly just "I hate you. I'm so glad I'll never see you again. I hope you're happy because I'm not..." Etc. etc. And I just laughed, quietly whispering "good, bitch," under my breath. At least I wasn't the only person who was miserable.  
The letter from Ringo was announcing that him and Maureen were now engaged- married by now, actually. Pattie and George were just trying to get word from me since nobody had heard from me. John's letters were responses to letters I'd never seen before, so they didn't make much sense to me.  
I finally made it to the pile of Paul's letters. Each and every one of them said exactly what I'd wanted to hear from him. Each and every "I love you" "I miss you" and "I wish I could see your beautiful face." And while I sat there reading those letters I forgot that things had changed, and it was nice. It made me feel better. Just seeing his hand writing scribbled across the page. I could even see him as I read the letters, and for a while everything seemed to be fine.  
As I reached for another piece of candy (by the time I'd read most of Paul's letters I'd eaten most of the candy) the bracelet that Paul had given me slipped down my arm. I unclasped it from my wrist and looked at it, turning it over again and again in my hand. Instead of putting it back on I put it in a pocket in one of my bags. I could give it back to him and he could get his money back for it or something. Why would I need it?

* * *

(Paul's P.O.V)  
"You don't make one bit of sense," George said, watching me as I flipped through my mail. We had just made it back from the Bahamas, and we were headed for Austria in three days. I was supposed to be taking him by his house, but I stopped by my place first to look through my mail.  
"What do you mean?" I asked, halfway through the pile I had in my hand.  
"You break up with Laynee through a letter- shattering her heart, I'm sure- but you're still expecting a response from her. Why do you think she wants to talk to you now?"  
George was mad at me, I could tell. I knew he'd been since he'd found out about the letter I'd sent Laynee.  
"Wishful thinking," I muttered.  
Suddenly in my hand was a letter I'd been waiting for. Laynee's name and address was written in the return address spot. I dropped all of the other mail and quickly opened the one I was holding. George was suddenly beside me, looking over my shoulder.  
The first thing that came out of the envelope was the bracelet that I'd given Laynee for Christmas. The next was a letter. Rather short.  
"I'm sorry, I guess, but that doesn't mean I understand. Here's your bracelet back. You can do whatever you want with it. It's no use to me. Yeah, sorry... Maybe we can talk about it one day. Maybe...I can't even begin to explain what I do"  
And she signed the bottom, and that was it.  
"Well, there you have it," George said, patting me on the shoulder. "Can I go home now?"  
"Yeah," I said, putting the bracelet in my pocket and heading back out to the car.  
Sure, I'd said what I did to Laynee, but I was expecting a... Different reaction I guess. Maybe I wanted her to write a long explanation as to why everything happened, or how what I said wasn't true. But no. No long anything. Just forty-six words. Forty six.  
I didn't make a bit of sense. I was upset with her about everything I'd found out. But I was also upset because she didn't react the way I wanted her to... Ugh it just didn't make sense!

* * *

(John's P.O.V)  
I was thankful to be back home. Filming in the Bahamas was great. Everyone got along just fine and all that jazz while we were filming, but Paul was mad at me, and George was mad at Paul. We put on our happy faces around other people, but when we were alone there was a bit of quarrelling.  
When I got home it was still strange getting used to living alone. I was thankful to be alone again, but it was still odd. Maybe I could get a cat or something...  
I looked down to see my mail laying in the floor. I flipped through it, not finding anything important until I got to the last piece of mail. It seemed familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. It was from Laynee, but something was off about it, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it.  
I opened it and read it's contents.  
"We need to talk. And I don't think it'll go well over a letter. Most things don't. Face to face. Whenever that happens. I think we both have to do some explaining. A lot, actually. I'm still confused. -Laynee."  
It was nothing like any of her other letters she'd sent. This one was short and simple, nothing like the long- I guess you could say love- letters I'd gotten before. This one was hand written, scrawled out in Laynee's beautiful yet messy handwriting. The others had all been written on a typewriter.  
I went and picked up one of the older letters she'd sent me. I compared the return address on both letters and noticed they were different as well. The most recent, however, was unmistakably written by Laynee. The others? I'm not sure.  
There defiantly was a lot of explaining to do. Whenever it was that I saw her. And I hoped that day would come a lot sooner than what I feared it would.


	73. Chapter 73

**_A/N: Hi you guys! I'm back for today, and here's a new chapter. Maybe you'll like it. I kind of like it myself. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!_**

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
The next couple of months were nothing significant. Nothing changed. No more mail, though. Unless my family was just keeping it again. But I stopped caring.  
My family continued to hate me for some unfathomable reason, and even Max didn't give me his usual- highly unwanted- attention ever since I cracked his nose.  
The only time any of them spoke to me was getting to help work on wedding planning, and considering it was Stella and Max's wedding I was less than enthusiastic to be helping.  
Over the course of those few months I read most of Paul's letters a million times- always leaving out the last one since it ruined everything. The letters made me feel good. They made me feel cared about, loved, and wanted. Something I hadn't felt since I left in January. It was now May. I'd been gone almost four months now, and still no hope of going home.  
One fine day- I say fine since it was bright and sunny and I hadn't killed anybody yet- while the men were off at work mum decides it is a good idea to leave me home alone with Stella. Who was pregnant. Like, nine-months-about-to-have-a-baby-any-minute kind of pregnant. And she thought that was a grand idea. I didn't. And my worst fear came true.  
"You should cut your hair," Stella said.  
I was sitting at one end of the sofa and her at the other. I would have been in my room, but I had to make sure there were no more dumb errands Stella wanted me to do.  
"Why?" I asked.  
"It's really long."  
Compared to her hair that she chopped off not too long ago, my hair was long enough to swing from the rafters with. I hadn't cut it in over a year.  
"I like it."  
"I don't," she said, picking a pair of scissors. "Come here," she said, trying to move closer to me, but she stopped suddenly.  
She sat back down quickly, her eyes growing wide and her face growing pale.  
"Are you alright?" I asked her.  
She shook her head 'no' slowly.  
"I thinks my water broke."  
"Shit!"  
"You need to get me to the hospital."  
"I'm without a vehicle or a valid license any more. What do you want me to do call a cab?"  
"Take Mark's truck. It's out there."  
"He has the keys."  
"That hasn't stopped you from driving a vehicle before."  
She glared at me, but we both got up and went out and got into Marks truck. It didn't take long before the truck was started and we were on our way to the hospital, and that was over half an hour away.  
Stella was freaking out, and I was driving like a crazy person. Stella kept insisting that I should know what I was doing, and I had to keep myself from pointing out that thanks to her and her wonderful brother I never got the chance to know what I was doing. I just informed her that she needed to sit down and shut up.  
When we finally made it to the hospital the doctor took her back immediately, but not before she told me that whether I liked it or not the crib was going to be in my room. I could leave the room if I wanted to. And she was going to make sure Mark made me fix everything before the baby came home.  
And that he did. It wasn't fifteen minutes after he made it to the hospital that he was leaving and dragging me with him. When we were in his truck he first began fussing about the fact that I took his truck. I explained that I didn't want Stella to have a baby in the living room floor. He said she wouldn't have. I told him I was just doing what she told me to do, and that was my job for the day, wasn't it? He couldn't argue with that, so he didn't say anything else.  
When back at the house I threw all of my junk into a pile in the closer, moved my bed to the far corner of the room, and even boarded up the ceiling where it leaked- all by myself. Surprisingly, Mark reassembled the crib without a word said to me.  
When he finished he left, leaving me alone in the house, and all of a sudden I was worried. Nervous. I don't know why the feeling overcame me suddenly, but it did. The thought of having a newborn baby as a roommate (since that's what happening, really) scared me. I knew why Stella decided to do that: she wanted me to take care of her child since she knew it was going to be a tough job. I didn't mind. But knowing that I would be watching over a baby scared me. I wasn't ready for it. At all.  
It was a couple of days after I drove Stella to the hospital that her Mum and Max showed back up at the house, but nobody seemed happy when they walked through the door. I was sitting on the sofa watching a segment on the television about the Beatles. It was pretty much talking about their walk of success and what they were doing recently. It was the most I've heard about any of them recently... The door opened and as soon as it did Stella and Mum were arguing about who-knows-what. Max was throwing in his own comments every so often as he stood there obviously uncomfortable as he held his newborn baby daughter- who was crying and making noise herself.  
Mum threw down the bag of baby things and ran off to her room, frustrated. Stella did the same, and Max followed her, shoving the baby into my arms.  
I looked at her. Her face was red from crying, and her small hands were balled up in fists.  
"What's wrong, baby? What's wrong with you?" I asked, suddenly feeling a motherly protection for this child.  
There was no response apart from the continual crying.  
"What's your name?" I asked her.  
I grabbed hold of her hand with the small hospital band wrapped around it.  
"Abigail," I read. "That's a pretty name for a pretty baby."  
She still continued to cry.  
"What's wrong?" I demanded.  
I changed her, but her diaper wasn't wet. I tried feeding her but she wasn't hungry. She had to be tired, so I had to just get her to go to sleep.  
I rocked baby Abigail in my arms, but she continued to cry. I ran my fingers through my hair. Some of it fell over my shoulder, brushing against Abigail's face. She stopped crying suddenly.  
I brushed my hair against her face again and she smiled, reaching for my hair and pulling on it playfully.  
"See, I knew keeping my hair long was a good idea." I said, smiling as I watched this now happy baby.  
Stella appeared from her room.  
"How the hell did you get her to shut up?" She demanded.  
"I tried," I replied.  
Baby Abigail looked up to see her mother and began to cry again.  
Stella huffed and slammed her door. I laughed.  
"It's ok. I don't like her either. We're going to get along just fine," I said as I brushed my hair against her face once again, quieting her down once more. Eventually I was able to rock her to sleep in my arms, and I just sat down on the sofa and watched her.


	74. Chapter 74

_**A/N: How's it going there (I've been listening to my brother watch and imitate PewDiePie lately, if you can't tell by my intro...) Here is yet another chapter. I just want to say that I keep unintentionally setting myself up for sadness when writing this. Also, I've been told that while writing this I seem extremely gloomy. But who wouldn't be when thinking about this story... Anyway, here it is. Enjoy! **_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Things were really beginning to brighten up for me. Even if it was only slightly, I was happier. Sure, sleep was something rare right now, and sure Stella seemed to still be out to get me- now mostly because her own daughter doesn't like her- but it was all worth it.  
"Laynee, Max and I are going out. You got Abigail?" Stella called loudly from somewhere in the house.  
"Shhh she's sleeping," I whispered, stepping out of my room. Abigail was sick and she'd just gone to sleep after waking up a few hours before.  
"Don't I always have her? I hardly know anyone is home."  
"Whatever," she said, grabbing her coat, walking out of the house, slamming the door, and consequently waking up Abby.  
"Abby, Abby, Abby," I said, picking her up and cradling her in my arms.  
"I don't know what's the matter with you! Please go back to sleep. We both need it."  
We did. I stayed up all night, constantly checking on Abby. She was waking up all the time, crying, running a fever. I was beginning to freak out. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, but I was doing my best.  
It was nine o'clock in the morning. I'd been up since four the previous morning with minimal sleep. So had Abigail. And I was wishing she would just get better.  
I decided to bathe Abby and just put on her diaper, make sure she was cool. After the bath Abby stopped crying. I was more than thankful. I fixed her a bottle and rocked her to sleep. I repeated the fixing her a bottle and rocking her to sleep part numerous times, but each time she seemed to get better and better.  
I was rejoicing silently when she went to sleep and stayed asleep longer than twenty minutes. I took that opportunity to look through the mail that had run a while back. Of course, I was going to put it back as if I had never touched it. I was just being nosey. And, in my just casually being nosey, you can expect my shock when I see a letter addressed to me- from my wonderful cousin. I quite excitedly opened the letter to read it's contents. I hadn't heard from anybody in so long.  
"_Hi, Laynee, if that is still your name. I've been busy and I've just had time to send this letter, and if you're busy to I guess that makes sense as to why I haven't heard from you. Of course, it doesn't make sense how you can send both Paul and John a letter and not me, but hey, that's gear, I guess.  
"Anyway, I just wanted to say hello from this side of the world. We'll be coming to New York in August. So, I'll be seeing you soon. That's all I'll say about that.  
"You don't have to respond to this letter. I understand. I'll just talk to you later.  
"Oh, Pattie says hello."_  
I smiled at the letter. It was such a boost when today wasn't going so great. But what did he mean by he'd see me soon?  
I looked up at the clock and decided I needed to go check on Abby. She was awake when I checked on her, but she wasn't crying. She was laying there looking up at the ceiling, talking to her self with her baby babble she's began using.  
"Are you feeling better? Huh?" I asked. She reached up for me and I picked her up. She goo'd and ga'd at me, and I responded in a similar fashion and she laughed.  
"So, little girl, what shall we do today, now that you're feeling better?"  
More baby babble followed by her grabbing my hair and playing with it. I carried her into the living room, sat down on the sofa, and turned on the TV. Nothing worth watching was on, so I had a better idea. With Abby in one arm, I pulled out the few records I'd managed to stash in my bag when I left home- and a few I'd bought while here.  
In a better mood since reading George's letter I pulled out the first Beatles record I came to- Please Please Me. I put it on the record player and sat back down on the sofa. Abby was completely intrigued by the strange music coming from that strange machine. She smiled and even did her best at dancing to it. I laughed at her, and seeing me laughed she did so as well.  
I picked up the album cover and began looking at it. Abby did too. She pointed at the picture.  
"What? Those four guys? Maybe you'll get to meet them one day. They're all pretty gear."  
Abby looked at me questioningly. I knew she didn't understand a word of what I was saying, but she seemed interested, and she was so cute sitting there holding the album.  
"That one right there is George. He's my cousin. When I leave here I'll be back living with him. If I could I'd take you with me, you silly girl," I said, laughing at her. She'd grabbed my hair and began rubbing it across her face.  
"Right there is Ringo. He's a big goof-ball like you."  
She said something along the lines of "baba la."  
"Yes you are a goof-ball. And you'll have hair of your own to play with soon enough, I promise."  
Abby looked at the album and pointed at Paul and John.  
"I was getting to them, be patient. That one's John. He can be mean sometimes- like your mommy- but he's not that bad. He's a good guy. A bit confused, but a good guy... And him? That's Paul. Auntie really likes him, but he doesn't like her so much thanks to mommy. Now isn't that wrong?" Abby nodded her head, copying the action I was performing.  
"Oh well. Now I have you, so I'm not sad about that any more."  
Abby smiled. The record stopped.  
"There's someone else I want to show you," I said, standing up and placing my new seat Elvis Presley record on the machine.  
I picked up the album cover and Abby looked at it.  
"That man right there, that's Elvis Presley. Auntie likes him too, but she doesn't know him, so she just admires him through his music and pictures."  
Abby seemed to enjoy Elvis's music as well and danced along with it.  
I sat back and watched her, smiling. She was going to be one gear kid, thanks to me of course.

* * *

(George's P.O.V)  
Laynee had been gone for what seemed like forever. Sure, we'd been busy with filming and then we had tours, but everyone had grown so accustomed to having her here. Paul, for some odd reason, broke up with her and does his best to pretend she'd never been around. John tries as well, but doesn't succeed as much. Ringo's been playing chess a lot more- 'brushing up on his skills' he says- and it's just not the same for me not having her to worry over all the time. And it's been a long time since we'd seen her. So I had a plan to get her back. Nobody but Pattie knew all of the plan, and I know Brian wouldn't like it- he would silently celebrate every day when he realised she wouldn't be around. But it would all work out. I'm sure.


	75. Chapter 75

_**A/N: Yet another chapter already! What's up with that? Well, I knew what I was going to write. So, here it is. I hope you enjoy.**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
The days grew on and August eventually came around, and I grew even more curious as to what George meant when he said he'd see me soon. But that was only a passing thought every so often. I was too preoccupied with taking care of Abby most of the time. Now even more so since she was beginning to teeth, and it was making her more than grumpy.  
"Laynee, would you get her to shut up? It's giving me a headache," Stella complained. She was sitting on the sofa watching whatever was on.  
"'It' is you child Stella, her name is Abby, and you haven't made a move to take care of her the past three months, so I don't want to hear it."  
"Her name is Abigail, thank you," she snapped at me.  
"I prefer Abby, thank you," I snapped back.  
"Well shut Abby up. I'm tired and my head hurts."  
"You're tired?" I scoffed. "I haven't slept in three months!"  
"You're the one who offered to watch her!"  
"That's what I've been doing!"  
"Then stop complaining!"  
"Why don't you!"  
I don't know why we were arguing. We just were. And Abby didn't like it. She cried even louder.  
"I'm sorry, baby girl," I said, picking up her teething toy and giving it back to her.  
I lowered my voice and spoke to Stella again.  
"You're going to have to learn how to take care of her, you know that, right?"  
"What makes you think that?"  
"I won't be here forever, and she is your child."  
"Then give her here," Stella demanded.  
I handed Abby to Stella, and that didn't set well with Abby. She threw away her toy away and began screaming. I couldn't help but laugh at them.  
"Take her back. I'm going out. I can't stand it here."  
"Bye," I said, taking Abby back from her.  
After giving her back her toy she quieted down.  
"Abby, I wish you weren't teething. I hate to hear you upset," I muttered. She babbled through her toy and and patted me on the nose. I kissed her hand and she smiled, her one little tooth beginning to show.  
"Do you want to listen to some records?" I asked.  
She knew what that meant, and she perked up at the mention of it.  
"I'll take that as a yes," I smiled. "Which one?"  
I held up the only two we'd listened to together- she wouldn't listen to anything else.  
She pointed to the one on the right and and shouted "e-bis" which is her way of saying Elvis.  
I laughed at her and put the record on. She laid back on the sofa and chewed on her toy, eventually falling asleep. I silently thanked Elvis before going and getting Abby's blanket and covering her up. I then sat down beside her, closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.  
I was awakened by a loud rapping at the front door. It was loud and persistent, and it only woke me up because it woke up Abby.  
I picked her up, gave her her bottle, and slowly made it to the door, not knowing who in the world it could be. Nobody ever came by. I looked through the window and didn't recognise who it was. They were covered wrapped up so I couldn't really see their face- despite the fact it was extremely hot outside.  
I opened the door anyway. They weren't going to go away.  
When I did open the door they stepped inside quickly and slammed the door. That terrified me.  
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.  
They took off the scarf, glasses, and hat they were wearing, and I suddenly realised who it was who was standing there. I was so shocked I almost dropped Abby.  
"Laynee, it's me."  
"I know that now, George. What the hell are you scaring me like that for?"  
"Nobody knows I'm here. Nobody needs to know... Who is that?" He pointed to Abby.  
"Abby."  
"Is she...?"  
"She's Stella's, but I don't think either of them realise that," I said, looking down at Abby.  
"Abby do you know who this is?" I asked. She was looking at him kind of funny.  
"Do you?" I asked.  
She looked at me. I picked up the Please Please Me album and showed it to her. She looked at it, pointed out George on the cover, and then pointed at George standing there in front of her, smiling.  
"That is right," I said, kissing her on the to of the head.  
"She knows me, eh?" George asked.  
"Of course she does. Do you want to hold her?"  
"Sure."  
"You wanna go to Georgie?" I asked her. She reached her arms out to him. "I'll take that as a yes."  
I gave her to George.  
"You know, you're the only other person she'll let hold her," I smiled.  
"Well I'm honoured."  
"Do you wanna sit down?"  
He sat down on the sofa with Abby, playing with her. I brought him a drink and sat down beside him.  
"Uh, what're you doing here?" I asked.  
"I told you I'd see you soon."  
"I didn't expect you to show up here."  
"What did you expect?"  
"I don't know- nothing..."  
"You thought I wasn't going keep my word? I'm offended."  
"Well what is your plan, then? I'd love to know."  
"I'm taking you with me to New York, so get your things ready."  
"I can't just leave!" I exclaimed.  
"Why not?"  
"George, I can't just leave Abby here alone. She's three months old."  
"Then we'll wait for someone to get back."  
"Oh... Ok..."  
I took Abby from George, looking at her sadly. I knew that I wanted to go home. Get away from Mum and Stella and Mark and Max. But I didn't want to leave Abby. But she wasn't my child. She was Stella's. And she was going to have to know that sooner or later. Stella was going to have to know that too. Abby was just given to me as a distraction to help me through the past few months. And I was thankful for that.  
"Uh, would you mind helping me pack?" I asked.  
"No problem," he said.  
It was more than surreal for me, packing my things and getting ready to leave.  
Abby looked at me questioningly.  
"Auntie it going away," I explained. "She might not be back, but you be a good girl, alright?" She nodded as if she understood.  
"Now we just wait for mommy to get home."  
"You really love that child don't you?" George asked, watching me as I talked to Abby.  
"Very much so," I said.  
Abby once again began playing with my hair like she usually did, rubbing it against her face.  
"She's allowed me to do something I don't think I'll ever be able to do. And that's what makes her so special." I rubbed my hand through what little bit of hair she had.  
"Well if it means anything, from what I've seen you'd be a great mother."  
"Thanks," I smiled.  
The front door opened.  
"Laynee I'm home!" It was my mother.  
"Oh my favourite person," I muttered, standing up and walking out of my room.  
"We have company," I said.  
"Who?" She demanded.  
George stepped out of my room behind me.  
"Oh, hello there George. How are you?" She asked, more shocked than I'd been.  
"I'm good, aunt Meredith," he smiled.  
"What're you doing here?" She demanded.  
"Oh, just picking up Laynee," he replied.  
"What? Why?"  
"She's been gone long enough. It's time for her to come home."  
"But she's-"  
"Being a slave for you?"  
"No..."  
"Sure. But it's time for her to come home."  
"Sorry, mum, but I'm going. I can't say I've enjoyed my time, but it's time for me to go."  
"What about Abby?" She demanded.  
"You raised me just fine. I'm sure you can teach Stella how to do the same."  
"You mean you're leaving now?"  
I looked at George who had my bags in his hands.  
"I guess so."  
I looked down at Abby.  
"I love you, baby girl. And you may not ever remember me, but just know that I love you." I have her a kiss on her forehead and she returned with a slobbery kiss on my nose.  
"I'm gonna miss you."  
I handed her to mum. Mum looked shocked and Abby began to cry.  
It killed me to see her crying, but I had to go. Now that George was here I knew I needed to go.  
"Bye bye, baby," I said, waving at her from the doorway before George pulled me out the door and to the car he had waiting.


	76. Chapter 76

_**A/N: "Another chapter? Already? You must have done absolutely nothing this Labor Day weekend!" That is true. Well, sorta. My sister came home from college for the weekend and promised to take me out, so I was waiting for that, but it never happened, so I had time to write this. **_

_**Everything is kind of thrown in there all at once, but this is what came to mind, so this is what is going to happen. (And don't worry about Abby. She's going to be fine.)**_

_**anyway, I hope you do enjoy this chapter. (Especially you, JamesWinstonParkinHarrisonLOVE)**_

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
Before climbing into the George's car he had he gave me a hug.  
"Glad to have you back," he muttered into my hair.  
"Now let's get going. Brian is expecting me at the hotel soon, and we've got a ways to go," he said, putting an emphasis on the word "me."  
I don't recall most of the trip. I slept most of the time, thankful to finally get some sleep. Everything going on was mostly a blur until George woke me up.  
"Laynee, wake up. We're here."  
We were in the back alley of some large hotel, and both entry ways to the alley were blocked. He grabbed my bags and led me inside. My heart was pounding fast. It'd been about six months since I'd seen anybody that was going to be here. I wasn't exactly sure where I stood with half of them- John and Paul- and I wasn't sure I was ready to see either of them, but I really didn't have time to think about it.  
We made our way up the elevator and down the hallway. George knocked on the door and it was slowly opened. Ringo was the one standing there.  
"Laynee!" He exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. "What're you doing here?"  
"George brought me," I said. "I can't breathe, Ringo, please let go."  
"Sorry," he said, kissing me on the cheek.  
"Woah, you're married mister," I joked with him.  
"That I am," he said, puffing out his chest proudly.  
The conversation would have continued, but Brian was there an he spoke up.  
"What is she doing here?" He demanded of George.  
"Coming home," he said.  
"Can I speak with you?" Brian asked of him.  
"Of course you can," George said, stepping back into the hallway as Brian followed him.  
I looked around the now empty room.  
"Uh... Where are John and Paul..." I asked, wanting to not sound like I was too worried, but I did want to see them.  
"Oh, uh, they're out... With some girls," Ringo said.  
"Who?"  
"I dunno. They just met them."  
"Oh... Alright then," I said, slightly crestfallen.  
"Sit down," Ringo offered. "Catch me up on what's up with you since I haven't heard from you in six months.  
God bless Ringo for knowing when to change the subject of a conversation.

* * *

(John's P.O.V)  
We'd just gotten to New York. Paul and I figured since we weren't married and we weren't exactly dating anybody, why not go out and see New Yorks finest. I was with some girl named Kellie or Krissa or something like that. It didn't really matter to me, really. It especially didn't when I walked through the door of the hotel room. I was bringing Kellie back with me- for obvious reasons. She was a real cutie if I do say so myself.  
I made it to the hotel room, used my key to open it, and stopped when I saw who was there. Sitting next to Ringo was, first off, George who I wasn't expecting until later, but next to George was Laynee. I looked at Krissa then at Laynee, back at Krissa and back at Laynee. Laynee hadn't been looking this way, but as I'd decided to tell Kellie to leave Laynee looked up and saw me. She glared at Kellie, but pretended she saw nothing. I could tell, however, that she still looked slightly upset.  
"You've gotta go," I said to Kellie.  
"What why?" She demanded, seeing Laynee. "Is it her?"  
"Kind of," I admitted. "Now please go." I pushed her away and stepped inside, shutting the door.  
"Laynee," I said running my fingers through my hair.  
"John," she said flatly. "Having fun?"  
"What-I -uh... What're you doing here?"  
"I'm not answering that question again," she sighed.  
"I'll find out later... I guess. Uh, how have you been?"  
"Fine, I guess."  
"Are you alright?"  
"Yeah."  
I gave a questioning glance towards George and he just shook his head.  
"I'm just tired, I guess," Laynee said.  
"Then go to sleep."  
"No. I don't really want to."  
I was looking around, watching Ringo and George laugh at my awkwardness just standing there. Luckily- and maybe unluckily- Paul came in and broke my awkwardness. It was lucky for me. But I say unluckily because Paul was slightly drunk. And he was with the girl he'd picked up earlier. And he didn't give a second glance to who was here as he led the girl to the bedroom area of the hotel suite.  
That was too much for Laynee. She got up and left the suite. I looked at Ringo and George before following her. We needed to talk, so why not now? She was already upset.  
I heard the sound of the elevator and decided to take my chances with the stairs. I was in luck when I made it to the first floor the same time she did.  
"Laynee, stop," I said, grabbing hold of her shoulder and turning her towards me.  
"Go away, John," she said trying to break free of my grip.  
"Why, Laynee? We need to talk. You need to talk."  
"Me? Need to talk? About what?" She laughed.  
"Whatever's been bothering you since you got here. And whatever you said you need to talk to me about."  
"Let's start with the easy one," she muttered. "Those letters you were getting... They weren't from me. It was Stella- you know how she is. Her only quest in life is to make sure I'm unhappy. So she made sure to do something that would upset- upset Paul. And she succeeded... And she's still succeeding in making me miserable," she muttered.  
"Ok. I kind of figured that after I got your most recent letter. Now, what's bugging you now?"  
"Besides Paul, now?"  
"Yeah. Besides that. Something was bothering you before he walked in."  
"I'm just missing Abby," I said. "I feel awful for leaving her like that."  
"Who is Abby?" I asked, not following the conversation.  
"My niece. Stella's daughter. My baby," she began to cry.  
"What?"  
"The baby that I took care of the past three months. The reason I stayed sane these last few months. My baby," she repeated.  
"I was fine with Paul and whatever decisions he made when I was with Abby. But now I don't have her and I have to deal with Paul and I can't do that!"  
I pulled her into a hug.  
"Laynee, Paul..."  
"Please don't make up excuses for him."  
"I'm not-"  
"Yes you are! You were about to say something about how he's been acting like that lately, when frankly I don't give a damn. He's gonna act like this hurt him when I'm the one who got thrown under the bus with nothing but a stupid explanation in a letter that I didn't understand! This isn't fair! I thought coming back was supposed to be better than what I've been stuck with for six months!"  
"It's going to be! Nobody was expecting you back tonight. We weren't expecting you back at all really."  
"So you just gave up on me?"  
"No-"  
"That's what it seems like. You just bloody gave up. Oh no, Laynee won't be coming back let's go do what we want!"  
"Laynee, neither one of us are bound as yours in any way," I pointed out.  
"I know," she moaned, sinking her head into my chest.  
"But you know, at the airport, I thought that was going to be the last time I had a chance to speak like that face to face. You and Paul were pretty serious and I didn't want to mess up your happiness." I thought carefully about what I was saying, trying to make up for any stupid comment I'd just made.  
"But now here you are, in my arms again and just as unhappy as ever."  
She looked up at me.  
"Are you about to kiss me?" She asked flat-out.  
"Why would you ask that?"  
"Every time you've ever been in a situation like this- me crying and you doing your best to comfort me- you kiss me," she shrugged.  
"Do you want me to?" I looked at her hopefully.  
"I don't know. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore," she shook her head.  
"Well why would I want to change things between us now?" I asked.  
She smiled at me, breaking through the sadness that masked her face just seconds before.  
I brought my lips to hers- well, we brought our lips together- and I was kissing her once again. I couldn't tell with Laynee if she was really having feelings for me again or if she was just falling back on something that felt safe and familiar for her- if anything I bet the second- but I wasn't going to question it while I had her wrapped in my arms once again. For a second I felt as if all was right, even though I knew that it was far from it.


	77. Chapter 77

_**A/N: Here's another chapter. Sorry it may be crap compared to the others. I've been having... Problems I guess you could say. Just issue and what-not, an I've been tempted numerous times to just give up on this story. I don't know why. I've just been getting frustrated. But here it is, and there shall be more. **_

_**Enjoy**_

(Paul's P.O.V)  
I woke up the morning after we arrived in New York, all alone and with a massive headache. I rolled over and looked at the clock on the wall. It was later than I'd thought, so I rolled out of bed, slipped on my jeans, and headed to the main part of the hotel suite.  
I stopped when I saw who was there. John Ringo and George I expected. Laynee, not so much.  
"Shit," I muttered when I saw her. I was expecting her any time soon. I actually wasn't expecting her at all.  
"Good thing you're up. You need to get dressed. We're gonna be recording on the Ed Sullivan show today in- uh- two hours," John said, looking at his watch.  
"Oh, yeah. I forgot..." I said, looking around at everybody, my eyes lingering on Laynee.  
"Are you going to go get dressed?" John asked.  
"Yeah, yeah I am," I said, shaking my head as if to clear it and even get rid of my headache. It didn't help.  
"Then go."  
"Oh yeah."  
I got ready as slow as time permitted, not wanting to really go back in there. But I had to when Brian called in and told us it was time to go. I slipped on my shoes and walked out of the room.  
George and Ringo were walking out of the suite. John was standing close to Laynee, speaking to her in a soft whisper. They both looked up and saw me. Laynee huffed and followed George and Ringo out of the room. I stood there staring at John.  
"What's that look for MCartney?" He asked me.  
"Nothing, John," I said, shaking my head.  
"Then let's go."

* * *

(Laynee's P.O.V)  
"What is she doing?" Brian asked as if I couldn't hear him.  
"She's going with us," George said.  
"For what reason?"  
"We're not leaving her."  
"This again," Brian muttered.  
"Yes this again, now let's all get in the damn car before we're late," I mumbled, climbing in myself.  
"How are we all going to fit in here? There's five of us and only three seats," Ringo said.  
"We squeeze in," John shrugged.  
"Wouldn't that be a bit too crowded?" Paul asked, glancing at me in the car.  
"Fuck it, I said climbing out. "I'll just walk."  
"You can't do that!" John protested.  
"Yes I can, and yes I will. It's not far from here."  
"You've never been to New York. How do you know where it's at?"  
"Why the fuck does it matter? I'll either walk or I'll stay here."  
"Let's just go," Brian demanded.  
"I'll walk with you," Ringo said.  
"And risk you getting mobbed by fans? No thanks," I said.  
"I'll put some glasses or something on. A hat, y'know. It'll be fine."  
"Thanks Ringo," I said, smiling slightly.  
"Ok then. Brian, your hat and glasses- thank you," Ringo said, grabbing hold of my hand as we headed down the road.  
"Any point as to why you're holding my hand?" I asked.  
"I look less like a Beatle that way. More like some normal New Yorker."  
"Prancing down the street in a full suit?"  
"Uh, yeah," he shrugged.  
"Sounds reasonable to me... So how's the married life treating you?"  
"Well I get married then leave and I haven't really been home. But it's great when I am home," he said, winking jokingly at me.  
I couldn't help but laugh at him.  
"Ok. So how did filming go?"  
"It was a blast for the most part."  
"For the most part?"  
"Well there was some arguing and such among George and Paul and John. Y'know, thanks to Paul."  
"Oh. Ok..."  
"Yeah. So what's up with you and John?"  
"I've been here a day. I don't even know that."  
"Well then, what do you want to be up with you two."  
"If I could have had it my way there'd be nothing. I mean, I'd still be happy and fine with Paul. But something came up, obviously. And that'll never work out anymore. So I guess I just want whatever will happen to happen. Whatever that may be."  
Ringo and I chatted happily until we came upon the Ed Sullivan theatre. We were spotted by security who helped safely inside.  
The boys got ready and performed. I sat back stage and listened. Not much else. I even met Ed Sullivan. But he only spoke a word- asking what I was doing there- before going off again.  
It was amazing to see all of the screaming fans there. All just wanting to see the boys- since you can't exactly hear them over the noise.

* * *

We all left the Ed Sullivan in the car- George didn't like the idea of me walking through New York, even if it was with Ringo.  
Back at the hotel Ringo John and George and Paul were meeting with Brian about something- "Laynee is not welcome" is what Brian told me, but I'm not sure if that meant about the meeting or just being there in general- so I stayed in the hotel room. All I did was lay there on the sofa that I'd slept on.  
I'd heard the hotel room door open, but I didn't think anything of it. I figured it was just the boys coming back. I was partially correct. It was one of them. Unfortunately it was not the one I'd wanted to see.  
I sat up to see who it was.  
"Oh it's you," I muttered when I saw Paul.  
"Yes it's me. We need to talk. You said so yourself in that letter you sent me."  
"That we do," I agreed. "Where is everyone else?"  
"They're busy."  
"Oh... So you want to talk now?"  
"I'd like to."  
"Fine."  
I followed him to his room, feeling uncomfortable, nervous, angry.  
"So what do we need to talk about?" He asked.  
"Where should we start is a better answer." I muttered.  
Before I'd left for America I'd have loved to be alone with Paul. Loved it. But now I wasn't going to enjoy this.  
"How about the letters?"  
"Which ones?" I demanded.  
"The ones to John."  
"I didn't write them."  
"What?"  
"I didn't write those letters like I didn't get the ones you sent me. Why? Because my family hates me. Why would you think I'd written any kind of letter to John?"  
"Because I know you, Laynee, and I read your journal, and I knew that there was still some kind of something between you. Why didn't you tell me what happened Christmas?"  
"Because I wanted to forget. He didn't seem to be telling the truth when he'd said anything to me and I decided I was going to let him live his life and I live mine. And you should have known that. I willingly gave myself to you. You don't know how much that means to me, but I do. Why did you think it was a good idea to send a letter to break things off?"  
He was quiet for a minute.  
"Well?"  
"I wouldn't have been able to do it if I hadn't done it through a letter."  
"Then why at all? Why don't you trust me?"  
"You weren't responding to anything I'd sent you. John comes to me claiming to have heard from you. That upset me. So I tried to call but whoever answer said you were busy. So I decided the letter was best."  
"What the fuck kind of answer is that? That's the same fucking thing you said in the letter."  
"That's all there is to it."  
"So this conversation has been pointless?"  
"Not completely. If there's been nothin between you and John then what was that earlier this morning?"  
"Him trying to stick up for you."  
"What?"  
"Yeah. Trying to convince me not to hurt you for what you did last night."  
He ran his fingers through his hair.  
"Yeah, and Jess will kill me if she finds out."  
"Who's Jess?"  
"Jess? She's, uh, my girlfriend."  
"You too?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head.  
But it was something. When John and I broke up- both times- he'd gone and found another girl. Paul hadn't done that before. But I guess he's just gone and given up all hope on me this time.  
"Laynee-"  
"Shut up. I don't want to hear your fucking excuses. I now know we won't be trying to work things out, and I do hope your happy because happiness isn't a common thing for me anymore," I said, standing up and leaving the room. George Ringo and John were back. They all gave me questioning looks. I chose to ignore them as I skipped the sofa and curled up in the floor instead.


End file.
